Secluded Minds
by SomeDays
Summary: One person knew exactly what was to come when the First Hunger Games was announced. The person with sorrow and fear in their eyes at the reapings, as memories of their games flashed before them. Somehow, the Capitol were able to cover it up, and therefore many men and women were killed in secrecy. 'Welcome to the forgotten games.'
1. The Mystery: Prologue, Part 1

**Disclaimer: **I think it's pretty obvious, I do not own The Hunger Games

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><p>'<em>Some people will go to great extents to keep a secret safe'<em>.

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><p><strong><span>Secluded Minds: Prologue, Part 1 <span>**

_**A Mystery**_

**The First Hunger Games**

**Josee Ernst, 13**

**District 7 Female **

She was still alive.

Her breath was an unwelcomed gust of air in her lungs as she stumbled through the leafless forest. Twigs snapped beneath her feat as she did the one thing she had ever been taught to do in a situation like this, she ran.

How much further would she have to go? How many more days, weeks, months, would she have to stay in this godforsaken place? She didn't know what was going on and she did not know what to expect.

She had watched the first lot of blood shed. _Six_ tributes had already died and they had only been in there for about two hours.

_That was one tribute for every twenty minutes._

Josee didn't expect people would actually start killing each other, she thought they would all just run away and hide in terror, but the moment that girl from District 12 plunged her spear into the boy from District 3, she realised just how real these games were, and they were beyond wrong.

Her ankle wrapped itself around a tree's roots and she fell, face-first into the damp soil. Warm tears fell down her flustered cheeks as she just lay there in the dirt.

She wanted her Mother and Father more than anything in the world. They had wrapped her up in a cotton blanket during the war. Fire and anguish had happened all around her, but she never saw any of it, her mind was pure and innocent when she entered the arena but now, she felt like it was damaged with images of blood and death.

Under her breath, she began to sing the song her mother had sung to her when she was a little girl to help her sleep at night.

'_Sleep my little child_

_Don't weep or cry for me,_

_Fire and sin surrounds us_

_but you are safe right here. _

_So close those little eyes so tight, _

_And hold my hands throughout the night. _

_Your Daddy will be home soon _

_And our lives will be good and bright.' _

Her life was far from good and bright.

Her tears finally stopped and she just lay still on the ground, just looking at the world surrounding her. She tried to imagine that she was back home, that she was lying down in her bed and looking through the window. It wasn't hard to do. The tree's here weren't so different to the ones back home in seven, they were all dying.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a piece of a metal. She narrowed her eyes and began to sit up again. She slowly pulled herself along the ground on all fours towards the metal piece, which was just poking up, out of the ground.

With her hands, she dug around it and uncovered it. She examined it in confusion as it rolled around in her dirty palm.

It was a bullet, she was sure of it.

Josee was quite used to seeing bullets, and it wouldn't have usually confused her, but the thing was, there weren't any guns in these games. _So,_ h_ow did this get here?_

She looked at it for a few minutes as she tried to piece everything together in her mind, but she was never able to come to any kind of conclusion.

An arrow shot out of nowhere and embedded itself into her chest.

...

Her death, to this day, remains one of the most mysterious deaths in The Hunger Games. Her killer was never caught on footage and no one in the First Hunger Games, ever killed with a bow and arrow again.

Some say that whatever she found, she was never supposed to find it.

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><p><strong>AN-** Hello all. Most of you won't know me. So hi I write SYOT's, I have two on the go at the moment but one of them is down to the final seven and just has about five chapters left, and the other is quite close to the games so, I decided it was time to start collecting for my next one which is to start at the end of the other one. *shrugs* I quite like having two stories on the go at once, it gives me variety. Plus I have had this idea for far too long.

Anybody is welcome to submit a tribute, it doesn't matter if you are new to me, new to SYOTs or old to all of them. I will be more than happy to take your submission. Rules and information will be up on my bio so please go and read that carefully. It is a 'secret games' and therefore it will be very different to a normal SYOT. So, I really suggest paying attention to the information given there.

I do not have a particular closing date for submissions. I'm saying the Midnight 1st January right now but that is open to change, I may decide to bring it forward or I may decide to take it back. I just suggest to get your submissions in ASAP and not wait till after Christmas.

Have fun with this!

I would love it if you could leave a quick review on this chapter to talk about my writing in this short prologue, it would mean a lot to me.

Till next time, bye! x


	2. The Danger: Prologue, Part 2

**A/N:** No, don't worry, the submissions aren't closed, not yet, carry on submitting! but here's another prologue in the meantime.

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><p>'<em>The price of knowledge, can sometimes be death.'<em>

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><p><span><strong>Secluded Minds: Prologue, Part 2<strong>

_**The Danger**_

**Eli Yates, 18**

**District 11**

**Victor of the Second Hunger Games**

"I'm alive."

There was a small ounce of satisfaction that revealed itself each time he said those two words. He was _actually_ alive. It had been an entire week since he ended the games in murder, but it still seemed unreal. His heart still pumped repeatedly through his chest as he constantly found himself on the edge of his seat, half-expecting someone to take an attempt on his life.

"This was the worst part for me." Her voice was like a sudden shot of ice, the bitter and cold tone was obvious, even now.

Eli stayed silent as he tightened the blue and gold tie around his neck. He really was not in the mood to face Violet, who was otherwise known as 'the other victor'. He wondered whether she was angry he stole her title.

"You know, you could at least give me a chance, I'm only trying to be nice!"

It was quite humorous, really. How could someone insist on their kindness whilst sounding so full of hate?

Eli gradually glanced up at her, his face as hard as stone and as strong as a mountain. Violet didn't appear the least bit intimidated by this, she leant against his doorframe, her red hair brushing over her soft, ivory skin, and her red-painted lips were in a permanent straight line. If Eli had met her in a different situation, he would have probably had an initial attraction towards her, but, right now, he couldn't stand her.

"Why don't you just leave me alone?" he whispered in a sigh.

To his surprise, she left almost immediately, and as she did, her voice blew over to him in an airy sound which made the hair on his arms stand on-end. "Well, don't run back to me when it gets difficult."

Eli rolled his eyes and smothered his face with his hands, "wouldn't dream of it."

He soon grew bored and decided to take a dive into the wide selection of books which covered the shelves in his suite. He was never much of a reader but sometimes his curiosity got the better of him, he just wanted to know what they read in the Capitol.

Most of it was the usual stuff which he could have easily have found in his local library, 'The Poor Child', 'Alice in Wonderland,' 'The war in three stages', 'The life of Berry Aton,'- whoever that was. There was nothing that really interested him, that was until a piece of lose paper fell out of a dusty old book with no name.

He narrowed his eyes and picked it up.

'_The__ Hunger Games'_

His eyes scanned across the paper in a panicked flurry, his mind not fully picking up on what he was reading, but he was able to understand it enough. This was a hit list, or a _tribute list?_ Something along those lines, but neither his nor Violet's name were anywhere on the sheet, so this couldn't have been a list of Hunger Games tributes, could it?

Without much more contemplation, he scrunched the paper up in his hands and then took off in a rush, down the lavish Capitol corridor. Peacekeepers gave him peculiar looks, but he simply ignored them and continued to sprint forward.

"Violet!"

The red-head span around on the stairs and looked down at him with a roll of her eyes. She was about to say something, most likely lecture him about his volume or about how he disregarded her just a few minutes before, but he cut in before she had the chance.

"Look at this!" he ran up the stairs to meet her, practically shoving the piece of paper in her face. He lowered his voice and spoke in her ear. "It seems to be a hit list of sorts, but it has The Hunger Games written at the top of it, do you think that- wait- what are you doing?"

Violet was busy rummaging in her purse and paying almost no attention to him nor the list of names. "Looking for this," she whispered under her breath. She pulled out a simple metal cigarette lighter and took the paper from Eli. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened as she set the paper alight.

"What are you doing? That could have been something important, that could have answered many historical questions and-"

When the paper was almost completely destroyed, she blew out the remaining flames before lighting a cigarette in her mouth. After taking a puff on it, she looked at Eli with a serious face.

"You have no idea how lucky you are that I happen to smoke," she muttered.

She turned and began to walk away from him, but he wasn't about to let her leave so easily. He took a hold of her arm and turned her to face him.

"Violet-" he began but Violet stopped him. She took the cigarette out of her mouth and puffed out a circle of smoke. Her green eyes gave him an icy stare up and down, causing him to move awkwardly on the balls of his feet.

Finally, she spoke, "Listen and listen carefully, we all know something we're not supposed to. Keep what you know, or what you think you know, to yourself and everything will be fine."

"But Violet-"

"Don't! - you don't want to find an arrow through your chest now, do you?"

Then, she stormed off into her room, leaving Eli stood there, on his own, in an empty corridor. He watched her leave for a moment as he felt rather dumbfounded. He knew she was referring to the mysterious death of the thirteen year old in her games, it was the only thing the rebels and the districts spoke of during last year's games, but he didn't understand how it had anything to do with him.

"There you are Mr Yates; you're wanted on stage for your victor interview!"

Eli slowly nodded his head and then he reluctantly followed his escort to the stage.

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><p><strong>AN- **Hi, don't worry, no tribute list yet. I decided to do three 'prologues' although the next one is more of a chapter than a prologue as it's actually not set in the future, but the tribute list will be with that chapter.

Speaking of which, I am closing submissions early, I am closing them in a week's time, so, about a week and a half early. (23rd December 2014). This is because I have just published the finale of my other story and I really want to start it, I currently have 23 tributes (but please don't let this put you off, I can always push the 24 number if I want to, there aren't any set rules as such).

Saying that, I really don't need anymore 16-20 year olds, I have so many already and I will not be accepting them all, unfortunately, just because I want a varied age range (hopefully with the average age about 35?)

The two victors who are in this prologue, you will be seeing them again :3 So, yeah.

Till next time, bye!


	3. The Beginning: Prologue, Part 3

...

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><p>'<em>Following orders is sometimes wrong, but sometimes; it is the only option'.<em>

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><p><span><strong>The Beginning: Prolouge Part 3<strong>

**Torrence Lentz**

**49 years old  
>The Capitol<strong>

The party atmosphere was as vibrant as the night's sky.

Children ran around in circles in the upstairs playroom, as the adults sat downstairs drinking beer and wine. Joyous music rang out like a constant beat. Celebration was the drug and, even those who did not agree with the Capitol's ways, caught its happy bug.

Torrence sat at the top of the table, a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Right now, he was the pride of the Capitol, he had successfully led his troops into battle and through to victory, it had been a long few years, but the celebration had finally arrived. The Districts had waved their little white flag and their leader had finally been brought to justice.  
>It was just down to his brother, the president of Panem, to say the right words and pass the right laws and then, they could all continue to live in peace and sanctuary.<br>Of course, the wounds would take years to heal and their victory could never replace the thousands of Capitol lives which had been lost, but at least their children and their grandchildren wouldn't have to live in fear.

Suddenly, the large double doors of the President's second home, opened and the cool night air rushed in all at once. A lone man stood at the door, his hair and clothes were wet from the rain and blood ran down the side of his face.

"Rebels," was all he was able to say, before he fell to his knees.

The room erupted into a state of panic and Torrence immediately took it on himself to calm everyone down. Volunteers went and guarded the doors whilst the soldiers in the room leapt into action and grabbed their weapons.

A group of about twelve men and women ran towards the doors and, once he knew the 'civilians' were safe, Torrence soon followed

"Not you Torrence," a loud and powerful voice echoed from the upstairs balcony.

His brother was stood there. The president was a large man with a rounded stomach and a slowly growing black beard. Unlike Torrence, his brother's face displayed his age through the lines and creases which decorated it.

"But, brother-" he began.

"I need to speak with you."

Then, the middle-aged man left to hibernate in his study once more. Torrence watched his comrades run into battle, knowing that at least two more of them would fall, just like the man who lay by his feet had. He wouldn't be able to help them this time.

He sighed and unwillingly walked up the stairs, cursing under his breath about how whatever his brother had to say, better be important.

Being the President's second home, the house was on the smaller side. Each bedroom was just the size of a rebel's home. He was residing here until the war had ended, it was safer as the building itself was easily overlooked amongst the larger buildings which surrounded it. It looked like he would be living there longer than Torrence first thought.

Torrence held onto the golden door knob which lead to his brother's study, he was about to enter when a sudden burst of fear rattled through his boy, as an idea of what this could be about passed through his mind. His brother had mentioned it once over a couple of drinks. It was a senseless idea which he swiftly ridiculed, but this was his brother, and when he got an idea, he would probably carry it through.

'_Cr*p.' _

Torrence burst into the room, his face flustered with fear and an ounce of rage, "that thing you want to do, the fight to the death? No- the answer is simply no! It's monstrous, inhumane, and-"

"Please sit down, Torrence." President Lentz seemed completely unfazed by his brother's sudden outburst. He just looked at him, over his glasses, with a straight and narrow gaze.

Torrence did as he said and sat in the hard wooden chair, but he wasted no more time in getting back to his plea. "I know what this is about and I really think it is a bad idea. We can stop this war in a fair and civilised manner."

The President chuckled and shook his head slowly, causing the anger in Torrence's blood to reach boiling point, he felt like he could explode out of his seat and throttle his own brother to death, but he tried, for both of theirs sake, to remain calm.

"You don't get it, do you? There is nothing civilised about those rebels, they are barbaric and will stop at nothing. We need to break them, kill their leaders, turn them against each other. It's the only way to stop this war, forever."

"But- my son's," Torrence whispered under his breath.

His brother was only one of a few people who knew the truth. Having him have that knowledge both worked against him and worked with him. Their names were known to the most powerful and dangerous person in Panem, but he had also been able to save them on countless occasions, without them even knowing it- or knowing him.

President Lentz passed Torrence a piece of paper and nodded, "these are the people I want you to find. I think you will find your son's are not on the list; although they certainly should be. Of course, I want you to pick up any other rebels that get in your way and I want you to raid the camps in District's 4 and 12. I don't care how many there are. Whoever you can grab, you grab. Otherwise, I'm afraid it's not just those pesky son's of yours who will face the penalty. Do you understand?"

Torrence swallowed his rising fear and nodded his head.

_Kianna; _his daughter.

From then on, he knew what he had to do; he couldn't lose his daughter, no matter what the human cost was. Morally, it may have been wrong, but bringing an unmoral end to this war sounded much better than losing his only daughter.

"I will go right away," he muttered as his eyes scanned the paper. He knew almost every name which was printed, many of them had children of their own, some of them were just children themselves, but they all had one thing in common, they were dangerous and they were all rebels.

_-Winter Valentine_

_-Alexis Smith_

_- Kalina "Lenna" Trinity_

_-Brey Victor Hudson_

_-Volten Briggs_

_-Mercer Sipress_

_-Aden Rees_

_-Audrina Terra_

"I knew you would understand. There is a jet waiting for you outside. Be careful, brother."

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><p><strong>AN- **Yeah, that wasn't the tribute list up there, it was just the names on that particular paper, and one of them isn't even in the games, so –yeah.

(Deep breath- prepare for a long and annoying A/N)

Firs of all, I had so many tributes submitted and I, unfortunately, couldn't accept them all, otherwise my mind would have been too overwhelmed. So, I apologise if your tribute, didn't make the cut. The main reason was because I already had a tribute similar to yours, I had a tone of female medics and a tone of teenagers. Another reason may have just been detail, I accepted more than one tribute from some people, but those people had so much detail, like, on some forms the personality section was longer than other's entire form. So that's what it came down to really. The tributes I accepted, I feel like they add something extra to the mix and I think all of these will have interesting storylines and possible subplots to write.

I suggest that if I didn't accept your tribute, you save the tribute and submit it to another syot (once you change it accountably- age and whatnot), there are many around which don't have enough tributes so I'm sure they'd gladly take them) **Infact! SeungriPanda98 has an open SYOT in need of tributes, and it is also to do with rebels, so check that out! Even if I did accept you ;D**

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><p>Without further ado<p>

**Females:**

Capitol: Winter Valentine (28 years old)

D2: Adriana Latro (30 years old)

D2: Renya Hallow (30 years old)

D3: Kalina "Lenna" Trinity (47 years old)

D4: Ilaria Raveri (24 years old)

D5: Talia Vanderbelt (28 years old)

D5: Willow Finch (16 years old)

D7: Zoey Allison Lockhead (20 years old)

D8: Angora Florence (17 years old)  
>D10: Audrina Terra (26 years old)<p>

D11: Ariadne Reever (32 years old)

D13: Giselle Lacer (24 years old)

**Males:**

D2: Gail W. Samson (41 years old)

D2: Archer Redhul (24 years old)

D2: Arrow Redhul (24 years old)

D2: Boe Redhul (24 years old)

D3: Brey Victor Hudson (54 years old)

D4: Ray Manta (16 years old)

D4: Luca Raveri (22 years old)

D5: Volten Briggs (38 years old)

D5: Chase Finch (21 years old)

D6: Alec Benen (33 years old)

D7: Geof Dragon (19 years old)

D7: Mercer Sipress (60 year old)

D8: Aden Rees (28 years old)

D10: Maxwell Arthur (31 years old)

D12: Ventor Pure (16 years old)

D12: Nicklaus Nesh (35 years old)

D12: Dinis Spiro (35 years old)

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><p><strong>AN: **Yeah, there are more males than females; you guys are good at making guys, okay? It was hard for me to narrow the guys down at all. So- yeah...I'm glad I'm able to do that this time around.

There is a blog link on my bio, I recommend you going and checking it out. I added a few strengths and weaknesses to some tributes, I used my initiative and they're mainly words people used in their personality part of the form. I just wanted to add some personality aspects to the strengths and weaknesses. They were there on the form, so, it's not like I just made them up.

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><p><strong>So, one question; <strong>

**What are your initial thoughts on all the tributes from the blog? You can be as judgemental as you want, just your initial thoughts from their picture, age, name, S/Ws and Weapon of Choice? I'm interested to know.**

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><p>Okay, I promise I will never have a AN that long again. Promise!

Till next time, bye!


	4. Fire

**A/N- **So, I am here with the first batch of tributes. This chapter is a mixture really, but they are all 'pre capture', some kinda lead up to the raids or their captures, but there aren't really any _complete_ captures in this chapter. As I have said before, this chapter and following chapters are all in the place of reapings. So they are all very 'introductory'. The lengths of each pov are _longer_ than No Escape (as in, twice, almost three times as long, in some cases.) Some may be longer than others, but not by much. I tried to keep them equal. I hope you enjoy!

...

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><p><em>"Let your skin burn and let your blood boil, but carry on breathing."<em>

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><p><strong><span>Fire: Pre-Capture<span>**

**The District 4 Beach**

**Arrow Redhul, 24**

This was his home now.

District 4; the District of warm beaches and salty air, It was better than the rocky landscapes of District 2. Once they had won this war and there was no longer any need for the rebel camp, it would be the perfect place to raise his daughter. Even now, when they were still in the midst of a war, Arrow and his wife could escape the hardships and find peace and quiet by the sandy beaches. The fresh air calmed their worries and the cool water tickled at their toes.

He gently brushed his hand over his wife's rounded stomach. Their baby girl was due to arrive in just under a month, he wished more than anything that he could have promised an end to this war before then, but he couldn't. For all he knew, the war could continue for another twenty years or so, his daughter would never have the childhood he wished she could have, but he had promised himself that she would be the most protected girl in all of Panem.

"How about Carmen?" his wife, Kortanna, asked.

She locked her fingers around his, as she admired the horizon. An unknown world awaited beyond those waters; a world which intrigued him, but a world which would stay a mystery. He was quite content with where he was. Perhaps one day, many years from now, his children or grandchildren could discover what was beyond the horizon, but that was their story, and this was his.

Arrow pursed his lips together and bobbed his head from side to side. They still hadn't agreed on a name for their baby, nothing seemed quite right for such a special little girl. "How about Yeanea?"

"How about no?" she giggled lightly, as she looked up at him with her beautiful blue eyes.

Arrow, not quite picking up on the joke, shook his head. "I don't know." He had a brother called 'Boe', so he wouldn't have been at all surprised if someone called their child 'Noe'.

Kortanna laughed out loud as she rocked forward slightly in his arms. Arrow took a moment to figure out what she found some funny, and when he realised, a rosy blush grew on the apples of his cheeks and he looked down at the sand below him in embarrassment. "Oh."

His wife gently brushed her lips over his cheek, which didn't at all help to reduce their redness. "You're so cute, Arrow," she whispered in a soft giggle.

He sighed and shook his head. Why was naming a child such a difficult process? He wanted her name to _mean_ something. His and his brother's names were simple, but they meant so much to them.

Archer, Boe and Arrow.

Before their mother had become another war causality, she had told him and his brothers. '_An Archer is not an archer without their bow and arrow, same as a bow is nothing without an archer and arrow, and an arrow is nothing without the other two'._

It was so many years ago and he was just a child at the time, but still, her exact words had stayed with him to this day, just like the three brother's had stuck by each other's sides.

"Mags." He had muttered the idea under his breath, as if he was in a daydream.

His daydream was soon disturbed by a loud and vicious explosion, which brought the two of them to their feet.

They watched as mountains of fire passed through the District, and the smoke reached all the way to the beach. Screams rattled the streets and guns fired in response. Arrow held his wife protectively in his arms as they both covered their mouths, guarding their lungs from the smoke.

"What happened?" Kortanna coughed out.

Arrow was speechless; he just stared out at the District as he shook his head slowly in bewilderment. The bomb- or whatever it was- had not hit the rebel camp, but it had hit the neighbouring houses. That was where the innocent lived. Children, who had no part in this war, lived there.

Anger caused Arrow's body to shake and his veins to pulse. '_How dare they, how dare they'!_ He wanted to scream and shout, but there was nothing he could do. His fellow rebels would already be there, rescuing the survivors and tending to the wounded. He glanced up to the sky, but no kind of hovercraft was in sight. He didn't understand why anyone would have done such a thing.

"Put your hands up!" a man shouted.

The couple whipped around to see two men wearing the capitol's uniform approaching them, guns in hand. Arrow pushed Kortanna behind him and reached for his belt, where he usually kept his own handgun, but, of course, he didn't have it with him today, he didn't expect to need it. He wanted to punch himself for being so careless.

Another one of his brothers may have tried to plea with the men, scare them a bit, but not Arrow. Instead, he looked to the ground and reluctantly raised his hand whilst keeping the other one glued to Kortanna in protection.

"Arrow!" His brother, Archer, called. He could have recognised his brother's voices anywhere.

Archer ran out on to the beach, but he clearly did not expect to see the two Capitol soldiers there. He slowed down as soon as he saw them and raised his hands above his head.

"What's going on?"

Neither man responded to him, they just kept their guns aimed for them; one gun pointing at Arrow and Kortanna and the other gun pointing at Archer. Arrow waited for Archer to say something, do something- anything! Out of all the triplets, Archer was always the one with a million ideas, he always knew what to do in situations like this, but Archer made no such movement.

"Let the girl go," Archer finally said, "she's heavily pregnant. Please, let her go."

The soldiers looked between each other, communicating without words. Arrow looked at them with hopeful eyes and waited for their decision.

No decision was ever made.

Fire came of nowhere and engulfed the two soldiers in flames. They let out piercing screams but then crumbled to the floor in a burnt up mess. Behind them, laughter was heard, a laughter which was more than recognisable to Arrow; it was Boe.

He emerged behind the two burnt up bodies, a proud smirk on his face. "You two call yourselves rebels, huh? Ooh, please don't hurt me, save the girl, oooh," he joked, whilst waving his arms around in the air in frantic motions.

Arrow let out a small and relieved chuckle as his entire body relaxed.

"Come on you girls, if you haven't noticed, there are Capitol soldiers around." Boe winked, jokingly.

Arrow nodded, but then turned to Kortanna. He had to make sure she was safe and he couldn't promise he could protect her in the midst of a war zone. "Go and hide under the dock."

"What?" Kortanna said with wide and fearful eyes. "But-"

"Just do it, I need you to be safe." Before she could protest any further, he pressed his lips against hers in a moment of passion, which caused Boe to moan like a child. He then pulled away, keeping his hand on her belly where little flutters and kicks tickled at his palm.

"I'll be back for you when it's safe."

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><p><strong><span>The Streets of District 8 <span>**

**Angora Florence,17**

The night air bit at her arms and legs.

District 8 was a quiet District these days, not many of its residents fought in the war, they were a civilised community and they got on with life.

The same could not have been said for Angora.

At night, the 'civilised' families, stayed in their homes and cuddled up by their open fireplace. If someone was out at this time, there was a high chance that they were one of the few people who _actually_ fought with the rebels. Though, even then, the majority of them were just do-gooders who sent out supplies to the rebel camps. A crime, yes, but they were hardly _dangerous_ people.

Still, The Capitol soldiers patrolled the streets at night, ready to capture anyone in sight. It was something they could afford to do in a District which did not fight back.

She watched from a roof top, as one soldier stood by a street lamp smoking cigar. He did this every night, he was such an unaware and idiotic man; it made her blood boil. A few days ago, she watched as that same man shot dead a young boy, who was even younger than Angora, the boy was just walking through the streets late at night; he had probably fallen asleep at a friend's house or something along those lines. He was innocent, even Agora knew that much, but that soldier had no compassion or common sense and he killed him, without a second thought.

Angora slowly reached for her blow dart gun and pointed it at the man.

Unknown to her family or anyone else, she had been an assassin for the rebel side for the past few years. She had been approached one day by an outsider, who had given her the weapon, and told her to kill the soldiers at night-time. She went along with it because, well, why not? It was easy for her; she was small, young, innocent looking and easily overlooked.

No one would have ever expected a thing.

She brought the weapon to her mouth and blew. It span through the air towards the soldier, but it completely missed the man. It passed by his face and landed in the dirt by his feet.

_Sh*t._

His head shot up and the two of them made eye contact for a short moment. The man shouted something but Angora didn't quite pick up what he said, and she certainly didn't wait around to find out. She knew too well what he was capable of and she didn't want to end up like that young boy.

She quickly slid down the roof, her legs scraping against the sharp tiles. She bit her lip and winced from the pain but continued on, she had to get to safety as soon as possible. She fell from the roof and landed face-first on the hard gravel below. Blood ran down from her forehead and her knees, but still, she stood up and ran all the way home.

She became aware of the few curious eyes which watched her through their windows; it wasn't often that anything exciting happened in District 8; this was like a show for them and they were intrigued.

She rolled her eyes and continued forward, but she wasn't really watching where she was going and she ran straight into another man.

For a moment, she was worried she had just ran into the arms of a Capitol soldier, but when the man held her and stopped her from toppling over, she was relieved to realise it wasn't. It was another rebel. The man, who looked to be about ten years older than Angora, smiled at her with a warm and genuine smile; something which was quite an odd sight in the midst of a warzone.

"T-the Capitol soldiers are-are-" she began. She wanted to warn him, she couldn't have him running straight into the soldier's arms, especially as it was her fault they were on high alert.

The other rebel just nodded. "I know, don't worry, just get home and sort out the bleeding," he said. He carefully patted her on the back and then the two of them ran their separate ways.

Angora wondered what his role in this war was, but she didn't hang around to find out. He seemed like a nice enough man, and she silently wished him the best of luck.

She ran into the back door of her own house, and again, she almost ran into someone else, her younger sister, fifteen year old Twyla. The two girls looked at each other with suspicious eyes; Twyla was holding a pile of clothing in her arms and was wearing a dark coat and dark winter boots.

"What are you doing?" Angora asked her.

"I could ask you the same question." Her sister said with a smug smile. Twyla took a moment to look at her sister up and down, examining her cuts and bruises. The older girl hadn't thought about how she would explain them to her family.

"You first," she demanded.

The younger girl sighed reluctantly and nodded her head, "fine. I'm meeting that guy who sends stuff to District 12." Twyla then gestured to the pile of clothing. "I want to help- with the war and stuff. Now, what were you doing?"

Angora shrugged, "Helping with the war-and stuff," she smirked.

The other girl looked as if she was about to protest, she opened her mouth but Angora refused to let her speak.

She was about to walk upstairs and let her sister continue with her business when she remembered the soldiers who had chased her. She let out a defeatist sigh; she couldn't let her go out there alone. Who knew what could have happened to her, she wasn't as fast or as sneaky as her, she could get hurt and, even worse; the soldiers could have thought _she _was the one who shot that dart.

"Let me take them," she said unenthusiastically, as she offered out her arms.

"Whyyyy?" It was clear that her sister was being very sceptical right then. Why couldn't she have just listened to her?

Angora shook her head and forcefully grabbed the clothes out of her sister's arms. "Just, go back to bed," she said. She felt quite guilty for being so forceful and demanding towards her sister, but it was for her own good, she was helping her and protecting her.

After all, little girls shouldn't put themselves in so much danger.

* * *

><p><strong><span>The Streets of District 7<span>**

**Zoey Allison Lockhead, 20**

Sunday; one of the most lively days in District 7.

People buzzed around the market, picking up apples, bananas, pears, whatever they could get their hands on. You wouldn't have believed they all lived on top of a graveyard, where a fatal fight had happened just a few weeks ago. Of course, the fight happened in the dead of night and hardly anyone had witnessed it. Zoey was one of the many who remained oblivious, she went from stall to stall, handing out her coins and picking up her groceries. The piles of wood for her fire, the apples for her pie and her favourite clothing.

The trucks from all over Panem had arrived the night before, giving District 7 everything they could possibly need for the week ahead, the suppliers never asked for much money, just whatever the people of District 7 were willing to hand over. All they really asked for in return, was a supply of wood from District 7's woods.

"I hate Sundays, they're always so busy!" Sandy, one of her best friends, announced just as another person knocked a potato out of her arms, causing it roll around in the soil-floor. The girl then ran off on a mad potato run, pushing random people out of the way to get her vegetable.

The other two girls laughed as they watched their insane friend go.

Zoey looked up at the blinding blue sky. Somewhere out there, people were dying and children were crying. That was difficult for Zoey to think about.

District Seven had it quite easy, most of the fighting happened in either District 4 or District 12, so, they could go through the day without the worry of being in the midst of a warzone. But, District 7, being in the middle of the two rebel camps, had its fair share of wars and bombs. It scared Zoey, but sometimes, on days like this, she was able to let her mind unfold and she was able to forget the death that had occurred here; to some extent.

Sandy finally returned with her potato, her hair was now a mess from the mad rush and she was clearly peeved. "I repeat- I hate Sundays."

"Stop whining, it's better than the alternative," her other friend, Angel, said as she jokingly nudged Sandy.

Zoey giggled at her two friends as they finally escaped the crowded part of the District centre, down an odd side road. Zoey never liked making this shortcut home, she much preferred to take the long route and stick to the main roads, but as her friends dragged her down the alley way, she didn't protest. They always dragged her through odd short cuts which always put her on edge. She always tried to go through it with a smile on her face, though that was easier said than done.

Zoey's unease must have been showing on her face because Angel soon broke out in laughter, "Hey, Zoey, chill out, no one's going to jump out and murder you, it's the middle of the day for crying out loud!"

The blonde girl nodded cautiously as she stole a quick glance behind her back, almost jumping out of her skin at the sight of her own shadow, before realising what it actually was. She laughed slightly and took hold of her friend's hand, giving it a slight squeeze.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry about me. I'm fine. I'm more than fine, actually." She smiled timidly. They continued the walk home, holding onto each other's hands and smiling happily, however false it may have been on Zoey's behalf. She didn't want to appear like a wimp.

"Ladies," someone called, startling Zoey. She looked up to see a man in a Capitol's uniform. He was holding a gun but there was a calm on collected smile on his face. "No, don't worry, I'm not here to hurt you. I was wondering if you could help me?"

"Er-er-erm, sure," Zoey muttered as she felt herself cowering. What was a Capitol soldier even doing in District 7?

"Do any of you pretty girls know where I can find Mercer Sipress?"

The three girls collectively shook their heads without making any kind of noise.

_How should I know? Am I supposed to know who he is? Who is he? Is he going to kill me? _These thoughts rang through her head in a flutter of worries. She wanted to run away from the _dangerous _man, but instead, her feet were glued to the cobbled streets.

"Okay, don't worry about it. But, please, if you do see him, turn him in immediately." The soldier then walked straight past them without hurting them or even laying a finger on them.

Zoey couldn't help but wonder what that was all about. Who was this Mercer guy he was on about? What did a Capitol soldier want with him? What had he done to make him personally targeted? and why was there a random Capitol soldier all alone in the streets of District 7? Anyone in District 7 would happily turn to him and pounce on him. Didn't this man have any sense of self-preservation?

Zoey shook her head absent-mindedly, she was still frozen stiff from the shock and fear and she hadn't even realised that her friends had started moving again.

"Well," Angel said as she released a relieved sighed, "he was quite pleasant, really."

_No he wasn't,_ Zoey felt like saying, _he was creepy as hell._

* * *

><p><strong><span>District 12 Rebel Camp<span>**

**Maxwell Arthur, 31**

_Dear Lilly and Little Maxy, _

_I feel like I should update you on what's going on down here. _

_First of all, the rumours that we have surrendered are not true. Don't worry about that. _

_Another rebel group raided the Capitol last night, their mission was unsuccessful, and only two rebels apparently returned to base, but we have not backed down. The rebel camp here in District 12 has put together plans for another mission in a week's time. It looks promising. Don't worry though, I'll keep myself safe and I'll try and not get hurt. I want to return home to you both as soon as possible. _

_I miss you both, especially Maxy and his cute little smiles. I bet he has developed so much in the past few months. He will be as tall as me before we even know it! I hope I don't miss too much development. How is he? Does he miss his daddy? ...Do you miss me? _

_I've been thinking a lot lately about the two of us and-_

Maxwell crossed that last line out immediately and scrunched up the piece of paper in his hands, it then joined the other scrunched up papers in the bin. He was thinking about apologizing to her, but he just couldn't do it. He hadn't done anything wrong, so, why should he?

It was all because of that one little argument.

'Irresponsible' she had called him. 'A whining woman' he had called her. 'Divorce' they both thought as doors were slammed.

Okay, it wasn't a little argument, and it had happened on more than one occasion, but Maxwell still believed he had nothing to apologise for.

He sat back in his chair and swirled around a couple of times as he looked up at the wooden ceiling. It was clear he couldn't divorce her, he had sat down many times and thought about it, but he just couldn't do it. He loved her more than anything in the world, she was the only woman he had ever _truly_ loved as much as he did. Then, there was also Maxy, his beautiful two-year old son. How could he have ever explained to him why his Mummy and Daddy were no longer Husband and Wife?

He just couldn't do it.

He picked up the photo of his son, which sat on his desk, and he put his feet up on the table as he admired it. When the picture was taken, the little boy was laughing because his _daddy_ had just made 'bunny ears' behind his _mummy's _head as she took the photo of him. Lilly had just rolled her eyes at his '_immature' ways_ and moved on with it.

'_Well at least someone appreciates my humour'_ he remembered thinking to himself as he chuckled along with his toddler.

Maxwell couldn't help but grin at the memory. It was a beautiful memory, even if he and his wife were going through a tough time. An empty feeling filled the pit of his stomach as he looked at the photo. He missed them both so much; he just couldn't stand it. He would have done absolutely anything to hold them both in his arms, but he couldn't. He had to stay here and fight and they had to remain safe, within the gates of District 10.

It was the only way.

He carefully placed the picture back down and ripped off another piece of paper, as he realised what he _truly _wanted to say to his small and beautiful family.

_Dear Lilly, _

_I love you. _

_We keep fighting, we keep slamming doors and we keep hurting each other. Why? _

_I am always going to be 'irresponsible' and 'immature' and you are never going to like that. But at the end of the day, I still love -_

Just then, the door to his cabin swung open and Maxwell dropped his pen. His general stood at the door, a serious expression on his face as he saluted him; it was all very professional. "Mr Arthur; Hovercrafts have been spotted heading in this direction. Everyone has been told to prepare for bombings."

Maxwell nodded and smiled a bit, although it was clearly not the best of news. There hadn't been any hovercrafts in the Districts for weeks, and there certainly hadn't been any in District 12. "Of course sir. I'll go out and help the civilians prepare right away, and then, is there a possibility of a party later?" he asked cheekily as he grinned.

The general smirked and nodded slightly, "perhaps there is." He then turned and left out of the room.

Maxwell chuckled and lent back in his seat, almost losing his balance and toppling over. Even when bombs threatened his life and the lives of them around him, Maxwell always took a moment to see the bright side of it, to chuckle and to smile. In fact, most of his fellow rebels had never seen him without a smile on his face.

He had spent the early years of his life being overshadowed by strict and uptight parents, now that he was an adult and he could do as he pleased, why should he live it in fear and sorrow?

He jumped up from his chair and dived into action. He grabbed his gun from under his bed. It was a large and powerful 'hi-tech assault rifle.' It looked very odd in the arms of such a cheery man, but Maxwell was also a very brave man and he could use a weapon like this like the best of them.

He took a glance out the window to see people were already starting to rush around the streets with fear in their eyes. A woman carrying a little boy, not much older than his own son, passed his window in a hurry.

That was when the first bomb struck, it was earlier than he had expected.

Fire swallowed the neighbouring houses and then the glass to Maxwell's cabin exploded. The impact pushed him off his feet and he flew backwards.

He became unconscious the moment his head hit the wall.

* * *

><p><strong>District 12 Hospital <strong>

**Nicklaus Nesh, 35 **

They simply couldn't save them all.

At least, that was what he told them with that sad and mournful look in his eyes. He watched as his fellow rebels cried into each other's arms, he tried to act apologetic, but, the truth was, he didn't feel any guilt whatsoever.

It was easy for them to believe him, they were in a warzone after all, supplies were low and people were sending in their wounded left right and centre. But, really, District 12 had some of the best medic personnel in all of Panem. Sure, some people would inevitably die in their care and there would be nothing they could have done about that, but Nicklaus and his team could have easily stopped someone from bleeding to death. They could heal burns and bullet wounds and they could definitely cure the flu or pneumonia. The real question was; did he want to save them?

Nicklaus was a great doctor when he put his mind to it and tried to save a life, but sometimes, his old ways wanted to stop a heart beat rather than save it. It was difficult to go from someone who took lives to someone who saved them. Sometimes, it was far too easy to just smother a patient with a pillow or stab them in a chest, or give them an overdose of morphling.

It was just too easy.

Nicklaus bowed her head, "I'm so sorry," he whispered to the mourning relatives. Before turning around and walking away, with a smirk plastered on his face.

Killing people was fun.

"Have you delivered the news?" Dinis, one of the other doctors, asked as he walked out of one of the wards.

Nicklaus stopped walking immediately and turned to face the other doctor who was jotting down some notes on a clip board.

Dinis was a good guy, one of the few people around here that Nicklaus _genuinely_ liked. In his spare time, Dinis had been a con-artist and that interested Nicklaus, it was nice to see another doctor with a different and darker hobby, it reminded him a lot of himself. Of course, there was a big leap between conning someone and murdering someone, but it was still interesting.

"I sure have," Niklaus said. He then mentally slapped himself when he realised how unfazed he sounded when he said that. "I mean, yeah, they didn't take it very well, which is understandable; the poor kids."

Dinis nodded slowly, as he appeared genuinely apologetic towards the family. "Yeah, I have no idea how it happened, one minute his vitals were in check and then the next- he wasn't breathing. I really thought he'd made it. In fact, I didn't have any doubt that he would."

Nicklaus pursed his lips and nodded. He had every idea about how it happened, but he would never open up about his little _hobby _to him_, _no one needed to know about that. "It was a shocker. Unbelievable, but I guess that's how our bodies work, they just give up in no time."

Dinis shook his head and then flicked through the paper on his clip board. "Yeah, anyway, the boy on Ward 5 is due to have another morphling shot, so if you could-"

"I'm right on it!" Nicklaus announced and before Dinis could even look back up from his clip board, Nicklaus was on his way down to Ward Five. He turned back around to look at his fellow doctor, only to see Dinis smiling at him. "Oh! And a coffee later?" he called behind him.

Dinis chuckled a little and nodded his head, "yeah, sure, why not."

It had been a long time since Nicklaus have gotten on with anyone, and the only reason why he actually acted like a friend towards Dinis, was so he wouldn't get suspicious of him, but it was nice to have someone to sit with during his coffee break. He hadn't had that for many years- since the girlfriend he had during his teenage years, but she was long gone and he still had the scar to remind himself of that.

He stopped outside of Ward Five and glanced through the glass window in the door. The patient was a young boy who had gotten caught up in a fire which had been started by a rebel group in the Capitol. He was an innocent kid who was really in the wrong place at the wrong time, which was why he was flown to District 12. Dinis didn't care what side a patient was on, if they were injured, he would treat them.

Nicklaus opened the door and smiled at the boy, who was really a burnt up mess, but he was still alive and he was still breathing, and according to Dinis, it looked promising for the young boy.

"Hey kid," Nicklaus said as he picked up a syringe and plunged it in the morphling.

"Hi doc," the kid said, in his weak and minimalistic, Capitol voice.

It took every bit of self-control Nicklaus had to stop himself from putting more that his dose of Morphling in the syringe. For a healthy amount, a patient only needed a quarter of a syringe full. If you gave a patient a full syringe, it had the potential to stop their heart. Reluctantly, Nicklaus stopped at a quarter. This kid was a good kid, and he was pretty sure that the other doctors would have been devastated if he didn't make it. He didn't want anyone to get any ideas and start an investigation.

"How are you feeling?" Nicklaus asked as he walked over to him.

The boy stuck out his tongue and winced. Nicklaus smirked a little and nodded in understanding. _Of course,_ he thought. It was quite surprising that he even survived a fire which was so grand and powerful; he was quite a lucky kid.

Nicklaus prepared the boy's burnt-red arm and then injected the morphling. When he was done, he threw the syringe into the bin and washed his hands.

"Wait," the boy said as he sat up slightly on his arms, "don't I know you from somewhere?"

* * *

><p><strong><span>The Capitol Jail <span>**

**Geof Dragon, 19s**

_Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock._

_God_, he really wanted to punch that clock.

_"Cr*p, Cr*p, Cr*p, Cr*p."_

He also really wanted to punch that kid.

He watched Cludius, his '_master',_ pace back and forth in the prison cell. Mumbling under his breath about how he didn't want to die, and how he should have never tried to escape the Capitol to join the rebels.

_'It was your idiotic idea in the first place!'_ he felt like screaming at him, but instead, Geof just kept his cool and continued to stare at the wall. They were going to be publically executed any moment now for their 'rebellious actions against the Capitol; which was quite ironic since Geof's family, despite living in District 7, had always been on the Capitol's side. Geof was just being a good butler to a spoilt Capitol boy, who had surely picked the wrong side to be on.

It was funny how things came around.

"Sir Frank and Sir Dragon, your executioner awaits!" a smug man with bright blue hair announced as he unlocked their cage.

Geof didn't hold an ounce of fear, unlike Cludius who was shaking like a rat. Geof knew he wouldn't feel much pain- due to his damaged pain senses- and dying couldn't have been too bad, after all, he had almost died the moment he was born. He followed the Capitol guard through the mansion and showed almost no emotion towards the people who gaped at them. He only rolled his eyes when Cludius tried to make a break for it, of course, the scared boy didn't make it very far.

They were led up onto a large, carpeted stage, which Geof guessed they had shown ballets and other shows on before. There were about one hundred people sat in the chairs watching the 'show' and there was a camera out back which would be broadcasting it all over Panem-to teach them a lesson.

President Lentz walked onto the stage to join them and he received a round of applause from the audience. He could see how desperate Cludius was to say something about this, about how wrong it was to cheer for someone so evil. Honestly, Geof respected the President quite a bit himself; it took a great man to sustain so much power in a world which was filled with so much disaster.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we are gathered here to witness the execution of two barbaric rebels. Two rebels who lived within our walls, we gave them everything, food, water, a shelter, clothes, anything they could have possibly wished for, but it wasn't enough, was it?"

_Yes,_ Geof thought to himself. Of course it was enough, it was more than enough, but unfortunately for him, his master did not see this.

"Which shall we kill first, hey? Hm, how about the shaking one?" the President asked as he pointed his finger at Cludius who was shaking like a maniac as tears streamed down his face. He looked like a weak little boy, pathetic really.

Cludius was pushed back onto a spot the ground. Geof watched in curiosity to see what they would do to him, The Capitol always made a show out of these things. The minutes seemed to tick by endlessly and it was clear that even President Lentz was getting anxious.

"Anytime now!" he sang out into the air.

There wasn't any kind of reply until a young boy, younger than both Geof and Cludius, came running onto stage, he looked up at the President anxiously. The boy whispered something in his ear and Geof watched as the anger rose in the President's face, it was quite humorous to watch, he could imagine him exploding into a fire of rage.

As soon as he could, the young boy scurried off stage, clearly not wanting to hang around on a stage filled with so many deadly weapons after _just_ angering the most powerful man in Panem.

"Well then, I guess I will have to do it myself."

The President walked over to the back wall which was decorated with hundreds of deadly weapons of all different shapes and sizes. He picked out a long and simple sword, which was quite stunning to look at it. It shimmered in the light and the handle was covered in a hundreds of tiny jewels.

The middle-aged man circled the weak looking rebel as he examined the weapon in his hands. The boy was still shivering in fear; Geof wouldn't have been surprised if the boy began to wail like a real baby.  
>President Lentz smirked and pointed the sword towards Cludius' neck, causing the boy to freeze in horror. "You call yourself a rebel do you?"<p>

President Lentz didn't waste any further time. He brought the sword up and then swung it around, beheading the boy in one clean cut. There were a chorus of gasps amongst the crowd and then a joyous cheer for the President.

Geof swallowed and looked away from his master's headless body. He didn't particularly _dislike_ Cludius, he was beyond infuriating but there had been a number of times in the past few years when he saw him as a friend more than anything. Cludius was a damaged seventeen year old boy, who had lost his family and had been abused by the butler before Geof. He didn't mind him and he didn't want him to die.

Still, when President Lentz pointed the sword towards his throat and said "you're next", Geof still stood with strength and pride, not showing any sign of fear. He just looked him right in the eyes and awaited his fate. He noticed a slight twitch in the President's gaze and he watched as the man seemingly shivered. He slowly but surely lowered the sword.

"Are you not scared son? I _am_ going to kill you."

The boy smirked and slowly shook his head. "I did not agree with what my master was doing, in fact, I am on your side. However, I was my master's butler, so I followed every order he gave me, I play by the rules, Sir, and I play till the end."

With this, the president's face lit up, "You play by the rules, do you? Hmm...How interesting. How _noble_. How _precious._"

Geof did not know what the President was planning, but he was intrigued to find out.

* * *

><p><strong><span>AN-** So, that was the first batch of tributes, some are definitely more crazy than others, but crazy is fun to write and it works in this SYOT, seeing as it's rebels and stuff...yay! You will probably see these tributes overlapping in other's povs, so you will be able to see how they were captured etc.

Thank you, by the way, for the reviews last chapter. I got so many and it made me rather happy ^_^. It means a lot to me, and I do hope you continue to review. I would send pm's to thank you personally, but- eh- I'm lazy...I will do that now and again -if I feel the need to say something, clear something up or answer a question or whatever :3

**Questions- **

**What did you think of each of these tributes?  
>Who was your favourite out of these tributes?<strong>

Anyway, this is probably the final update of 2014...unless something bizarre happens, I have a free day tomorrow so- who knows- but if not happy new year guys and see you in 2015!


	5. Fear

**A/N:** Hello, I hope everyone had a good Christmas and new year, I'm back here in 2015 with the next introduction chapter! I'm trying really hard to get better at grammar/spelling etc, so, my lovely friend W.E.B.P has beta'd the first four povs for me, I did the final two in the hopes that I could use the mistakes she pointed out to beta them myself. They're probably not perfect but I'm working on it. If you guys could help point out where I'm going wrong in the reviews, I'd be very appreciative.. So, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>'Taken from the place I call home without any reason why'.<p>

* * *

><p><span><strong>Taken: 'Capture'<strong>

**District 3 **

**Brey Victor Hudson, 54**

Flickering lights, bursts of sparks and constant static.

This had become the norm in District 3, something which put kids on the streets every day, as family businesses went under. Brey sat back in his chair and waited. His room dipped in and out of light every two minutes as his lamps flickered on and off. The Capitol had cut their wires and destroyed their power stations a couple of weeks ago causing District 3 to dive into constant darkness. Some power had returned now, but it was still a damaged warzone.

This was why they fought; this was why his friends and younger brother nobly gave up their lives, so that the District's weren't left in the shadows, so that his grandchildren could live in a country where they were once again safe. He wanted them to be able to run around without the fear that if they stepped out of line, they would be thrown into jail, or worse- killed.

He shuddered at that thought. No, they would be fine. They were still just babies, no one would ever dream of hurting them and, if they did, he would ensure that they would suffer the most horrendous death imaginable. Nobody touched his family.

"Hello?" he heard someone say in a whisper of a voice.

Brey snapped to attention and looked down the hall at the now-opened door; he hadn't heard it open and he certainly hadn't heard any kind of knock. He was about to reach for his gun, which he kept locked away in a safe case, when he heard something which filled his heart with joy.

"Grandpa?" a soft and curious voice called.

Brey chuckled quietly to himself, "In here Layton!"

The sound of a child's giggle grew louder as Layton ran down the hall and, before Brey knew it, a three year old was bouncing up and down on his lap. Layton's parents followed soon after, Brey's daughter carrying her other child, one year old Fiona. Fiona looked over at Brey and gave him a small wave, which Brey soon returned.

"I didn't hear your knock," Brey commented as he continued to cuddle his lively grandchild.

"That's because you got bad ears, Grandpa," Layton piped up as he gently pinched his granddad's ears.

The family chuckled and even baby Fiona giggled a long with a confused look on her face. Clearly not understanding why all the 'big people' were laughing.

"That I do, Layton," he whispered, as he gently tickled the child under his chin, making the little boy shriek in laughter.

Where would he be without his family? _They_ were the ones who kept his heart beating and filled it with glee and joy on a day by day basis. _They_ were the ones who made him realise why he continued to fight for the Districts and why he risked his life every day.

Layton and Fiona were too young to understand what fear was and they were too young to understand why the city was in darkness and why people screamed at night. Brey hoped that they would never have to understand that. He hoped that it would never become the 'norm' for them, as it had for him and his daughter, Sophia. They deserved the best and Brey was determined that they would get 'the best'.

"Where's Mum?" Sophia asked.

"In the back, hanging up some washing," Brey muttered. Not once looking away from his hyperactive grandchild, who was busy pulling at his Brey's clothing and trying to wrestle with his grandpa, something he always seemed to do.

Brey could tell, even at such a young age, that Layton would grow up to be a little fighter. He didn't want the boy to be, of course not, but if he ever had to be, he wouldn't be a timid or weak boy. That gave him a certain amount of hope and pride. Hope that the future generations would be okay when people like Brey passed on, that they would never settle for second best. And pride because Layton would be one of the ones to follow in his footsteps, he would stand up for what was right.

A sudden silence filled the room, as there was a continuous intake of breath. Brey looked up at his daughter and son-in-law in confusion, _what was the matter?_

"Layton, come here sweetie," Sophia whispered.

Layton pouted his lips, but then skipped over to his father who protectively brought him up in his arms.

"Brey," his wife's nervous voice whispered from behind him.

He turned around in his seat and the atmosphere suddenly became clear. _They had found him- and they had found his family._

A strong-looking man, wearing The Capitol's token, held a hand gun to his wife's head and his wife, Maylean, trembled in the soldier's arms. Brey took a moment to have a look at the design of the gun. It was one Brey had made, but, unfortunately for him, it wasn't one of his most recent - faulty - guns.

Brey slowly began to stand up, his joints aching as he did so. He raised his hands above his head and looked at the soldier in a pleading manner. If his family wasn't there, he would have tried to fight back, but he didn't want to put his family in danger and he certainly didn't want to scare his grandchildren.

"Let's go outside," he said softly, "you can shoot me there, but, not in front of the children. Please. They don't need to see this."

The soldier narrowed his gaze and shook his head firmly. "I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to arrest you, now-." The soldier pushed Maylean out of the way and pointed the gun towards Brey. "-walk with me, out of the back door, and we won't hurt this _precious_ family of yours."

Why the soilder didn't want to kill him was beyond him, but he didn't argue and he didn't ask questions. He couldn't argue when his grandchildren's lives were on the line. He didn't think for a moment that The Capitol were above killing children. It was something they'd gladly do if they felt it would give them power, and that was all anyone seemed to want these days.

"Show the way, I'll gladly follow you."

The man smirked, grabbed the older man's wrists and sealed some handcuffs around them. He then pressed the tip of the gun to the back of Brey's skull. "I could easily pull this trigger, you know. One of your guns killed my father. How ironic would it be if one of your own guns killed _you?_ Now, walk old man, before I change my mind," he spat.

The evil tone in the man's voice filled Brey with rotten hatred towards this '_nincompoop'._ He despised The Capitol more than anything in the world and it took every ounce of self-control he owned to stop him from fighting back.

'_Think of the children',_ he reminded himself. They were what was most important right now.

Brey reluctantly walked forward. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Layton struggle in his father's arms and he saw the tears which fell down Maylean's and his daughter's faces. His own eyes became wet as he left the house. Whatever they wanted to do to him, he knew it wouldn't be good, and he knew that he would never see his loving family again.

_As long as they're safe, _he thought as he looked up at the sky and let the night air cool his tear stained face.

_As long as they're safe._

* * *

><p><span><strong>District 2<strong>

**Reyna Hallow . 30**

"Alexis Smith?"

Reyna felt an annoyed groan work its way up her chest. _Why did she always have to be around? _

Alexis was her sister's name. Clearly someone else had seen her and had stopped to speak to her in the town square. Reyna lived in one of the smallest parts of District 2, it was the sort of community where everyone knew everyone. It was rather annoying at times, especially during the times of such a controversial war. Knowing everyone meant there were a lot of enemies and a lot of friends, it was all dependent on what side you were on.

Reyna didn't bother to turn around or show her face, she didn't particularly want to face her sister at that exact moment. Alexis was an idiotic woman who angered her sister more than anything. Why would she fight against the Capitol when _they_ were the ones who actually gave them everything they could possibly need? The rebels were just picking pointless fights, they were being greedy and they certainly weren't thinking about the safety of their children..._her_ children.

She took a moment to look around at the market square to see everyone staring at her as if she had two heads. Reyna narrowed her gaze and stared back at them.

"What's going on?" she demanded, but nobody replied. They just carried on staring at her with their unmoving gaze.

Suddenly, someone forcefully grabbed a hold of Reyna's arm, causing her to jump in surprise. A group of Capitol soldiers stood behind her, all aiming their guns at her. Something about their expressions weren't quite right; their eyebrows were furrowed together and their eyes were squinted. A few of them had a twitching lip as if they were anxious or curious about something, which was entirely stupid as there were four of them and just one of her. What did they think she was going to do? Chop their heads off?

"Alexis Smith, you must come with us instantly," the man who had a hold of Reyna demanded. He was an older man, probably in his late fifties, with dark blonde hair and a dark blonde moustache which was shaped in a rather outrageous style. Someone else may have found it quite difficult to take seriously, but not Reyna.

Reyna furrowed her brows and shook her head, "What are you talking about? I'm not Alexis Smith."

She watched as some of the soldiers smirked at this. Another man's face turned bright red and he had to bite down on his bottom of his lip to stop him from laughing out loud. The man, who seemed to be the leader of their little 'gang', looked back and gave the laughing man an evil glare, before looking back up at Reyna and saying in a very condescending tone, "Please, we were not born yesterday. Now, you must come with us."

The man gave Reyna some time to willingly follow them; she could see how they waited as they watched her expectedly. Of course, she was never going with them willingly. Why should she? She had done nothing wrong. After a few more seconds, the soldier then forcefully dragged Reyna through the crowd of bystanders. She tried to pull back, but the men were far too strong for her.

"I am not Alexis Smith! I am her sister, Reyna!" she began to shout as her heals dragged across the floor.

Still, the men did not listen to her. She couldn't understand how they could have made such a huge mistake. She understood that she looked a bit like her sister, but her sister was a rebel leader whereas Reyna was just another innocent bystander who happened to be on the Capitol's side- even if both her sister and husband were on the opposed side.

"Listen to me you imbeciles, I'm not who you think I am!" She was screaming now and waving her arms and legs around like an insane woman.

Her neighbours were watching her in shock as the soldier's dragged her past her own house. How could Reyna, a simple mother of two, be such a dangerous rebel? It angered her more than anything. It was bizarre how they thought she could be a rebel, it was obvious she wasn't; they should have known this more than anyone else.

"Mummy!"

Her two children ran out of her house, tears streaming down their young faces. They did not understand what was going on. Reyna wanted nothing more, but to scoop them up in her arms and cuddle them close. But as soon as they got anywhere near their mother, a soldier kicked them out of the way causing her son, Xander, to fall on the hard floor. The two children cried into each other and there was nothing Reyna could do to help them. She hoped that whilst she was gone, their father would actually return home and take care of them. Otherwise, who was left for them?

"Don't you _dare_ touch my children!" Reyna shouted, sounding angrier and louder than she ever had before.

The soldier chuckled evilly before grabbing Reyna's ear between his fingers and whispering into it, "oh, I shouldn't worry. If you don't obey my commands, I'm able to hurt them in any way I please. I could always cut their little toes off. If you really want?"

Reyna's blood boiled and without giving it moment of thought, she punched the same man square in the face. She heard a crunch beneath her fist and blood poured out of the man's nose. He shouted in pain and released his hold on Reyna to hold his nose.

She didn't have much time to act and she sprinted over to her children and brought them into her arms. Her shirt quickly became damp with their tears and she knew she would only have a few seconds with them. "Go to the neighbours, ask to use their phone and call Dad. Tell him to come home. I love you."

Then, a syringe broke the skin on her neck, her children screamed out in horror, and she passed out almost immediately.

* * *

><p><span><strong>District 7 <strong>

**Mercer Sipress , 60**

They were after him.

Then again, they have always been after him. His enemies were around every corner, waiting for them with their curious and expecting gazes, ready to pounce on him if he let them; he would never let them, he would never let them get close enough to even touch him.

He couldn't even go outside without seeing one of them in the midst of the crowd or hiding in the shadows. He had to constantly look over his shoulder expectantly. '_Always watch your back and never lose focus,' _he used to tell his soldiers. Now, it was up to _him_ to follow his own advice. '_You can never be too careful these days.'_

He looked behind him for about the fortieth time in his short ten minute walk. He kept seeing _shadows_ and _figures _which caused his heart to race and his palms to become sticky with sweat. He wanted to slap his own mind for playing the constant tricks on him; he knew that was all it was, his old mind playing tricks on him again.

It was ridiculous.

"Mercer Sipress?" he heard someone say.

'_It's just your old mind. _I_t's just your old mind,'_ he repeated over and over again to himself.

Still, Mercer quickened his pace, to the quickest pace he could reach in his old years. He just wanted to get home, lock himself in and just put his feat up, maybe even treat himself to a nice, warm stew. That sounded good to him.

"Mercer Sipress, put your hands up immediately, otherwise I will have to shoot!"

This time, Mercer turned around and _really saw them._ He was right for once, they were after him and he wasn't just imagining it. He stopped in his tracks and just stared at them, they looked like monsters rather than humans. That was what he associated that outfit with: monsters. Monsters who caused him a great deal of stress whilst he was a general. They killed _so_ _many_ of his soldiers - so many genuine, innocent men, and it had been Mercer's job to keep those men alive. The soldiers who stood in front of him made his job impossible.

The men approached him with care and caution, but the evil look in their eyes and the smirk on their faces made Mercer twitch in fear.

'_I can't let them get me__.__ I won't let them get me!'_

The elder turned around and began to run, he wasn't the best runner and his entire body felt like giving out and crumbling to the ground, but he pushed on. His lungs burned from being put under so much pressure and his heart pounded like an uncontrollable drum. He could hear the younger, fitter men, running after him. They were quicker than he was and they would have either caught up with him or he would pass out before they did.

"HOLD YOUR FIRE, KALEB! " He heard someone scream and then, before he knew it, a trigger was pulled and a powerful blow hit him straight in the shoulder. He fell to the ground in a heap of pain as he struggled to catch his breath. Blood ran down his arm and immediately, the small amount of energy he still had was gone in an instant. He watched the men as an argument broke out about rules and laws and how the president did not want them to hurt him.

The men appeared so strongly focused on the argument amongst them, that they didn't even seem to pay any attention to Mercer. He took this opportunity and slowly dragged himself out of the way and hid amongst the bins around the corner from the soldiers. He pressed his palm against his arm and waited, in the hope that these soldiers were just as stupid as they used to be.

To his relief, after the men realised he had gone and another argument broke out, the soldiers ran right past him, not even looking down the alleyway where he lay. He let out a deep sigh and leant back against the wall. All of his joints ached and his organs felt like they were on fire.

'_I'm far too old for this.'_

"Oh, you poor man!" A young girl with blonde hair ran over to Mercer and crouched beside him. She seemed to be quite on edge, just as Mercer was, as she kept looking behind her back and looking around. Presumably looking for whoever shot the 'poor man'.

"Here, let me help you. My house is just up the hill," she said and immediately took Mercer by the arm.

Mercer pulled himself away from her, not wanting to go anywhere with a random girl who he had just met. There was something very odd about a girl who was so young and innocent looking, offering her help to strange and injured old man. No one was _that_ kind these days, not unless they want something off you and Mercer wasn't taking any chances. For all he knew, she was just another one of his enemies.

"I'm a trained medic. It's okay," The girl whispered softly. Clearly upset by his negative actions, but Mercer did not feel any guilt and he did not pity the girl. Enemies always acted this way so they could grab you with their own trust and put you exactly where they wanted. He had dealt with many manipulative spies before in his past.

"Go away, girl. You will only get yourself in trouble," he spat.

His warning was far too late for the soldiers had found him again and this time, they did not have to play cat and mouse with him.. The soldiers put handcuffs around Mercer's wrists and then turned to the young girl.

One of them smiled a sweet smile, as if momentarily taken back by her appearance, before shaking his head firmly as if he just remembered where he was.

"I did warn you miss, if you found Mercer you must turn him in, and here you are, trying to help him!"

Another solider grabbed a hold of the girl and put her in handcuffs. Mercer could see that the young girl was shaking from fear and her eyes were darting all over place and he was almost the same. His heart had begun racing again, to the point where he thought he might have suffered a heart attack. The men picked him up from the ground and they began to lead him away.

_They have caught me. The enemy has caught me._

* * *

><p><span>"<strong>Safe house," District 10 <strong>

**Audrina Terra, 26**

People just didn't listen anymore.

Audrina leant against her desk and tapped her pencil impatiently against the wood as the ignorant woman on the other line rambled on, like she always did. Audrina wasn't really paying much attention, because it was quite clear to her, that this woman never paid any attention to what she was saying. Otherwise, she would have realised that every single point she had been ranting on about, had just been addressed in Audrina's previous statements.

She was perhaps the only woman in all of Panem who just couldn't listen to what was being said. She had such a short attention span that it was quite worrying, and _she_ was the one who was supposed to be in charge of the entire rebel movement.

_It was nice to see the rebels were in such great hands._

Audrina shook her head and let out a deep and aggravated sigh, "Excuse me, can I stop you right there?"

The woman on the other line slowly lowered her voice, as Audrina spoke over the top of her, until her voice was a void of silence. As Audrina began to speak, she began to pace around her dark, cold study, admiring the letters which were stapled to walls; plans for victory and goals for the future.

_This _was what she believed in and why she dealt with women like these.

"Tell me, who are you?" Audrina asked in a very 'matter of fact' tone.

"Um, I am Junlie, the leader of District 13? Why?"  
>"Right and why are you calling me?"<p>

"To gather information about District 10 and its current structure?"

Audrina sighed and dropped down onto her sofa. '_Really?'_

It seemed to her that _this _woman was more interested in ranting on about the recent raids which had failed and the lack of enthusiasm from other District representative's.

"Thank you. Do you mind actually doing that?" Audrina rolled her eyes and shook her head. She loved her job, she really did. It was something she was practically born to do. Ever since she was a young girl, Audrina had been very eloquent with her words and she had always been very good with people. In a job like this, you had to deal with a range of people and most of them were rather difficult, consequently, you had to have some skill with dealing with people.

"Of course, I'm sorry Audrina," the woman said half-heartedly.

Audrina smiled a little and nodded._ Thank god for that_.

"Okay, so District 10 is doing very well at the moment. It's strong and stable and, honestly, I think it's one of the safest districts in all of Panem. We haven't had any war causalities within the walls of District 10 for the past few months. People are beginning to trust the soldiers out here and the children are going to school for the first time in almost a year."

As she spoke, Audrina became very aware of the other woman's yawns and sighs of impatience. She wasn't listening again. District 10 was a _pretty _safe District and this woman didn't care about safe Districts. Junlie would much rather move onto the more interesting districts, like District 4 or 12, which she could _actually_ send more help too. Audrina understood this; why waste time checking in with a District who just got on with life and didn't need anything? Still, she didn't want District 10 to become a forgotten district. After all, that was what this entire war was about in the first place; to keep the districts out of the shadows and in the light.

"That's great Audrina, really, but I really should be going. I have my own District to take care off. Keep me posted on any change, hunny. Bye!"

Then, before Audrina could even open her mouth to say anything more, the woman hung up on. She rolled her eyes and threw the phone across the room with minimal aggression. Why was this woman so bothersome? Audrina crossed her legs and allowed herself to relax, but the minute she did, a loud bang echoed through her home, making her jolt in shock.

This was the safe house in District 10. Hardly anyone knew where she lived, and those who did would never have come to it during the day. If the Capitol had found it, everyone who lived there would be dead.

She would be dead.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, stood up, and backed up to the back of the room as her heart pounded against her chest. There was no one else it could possibly be; it _had_ to be the Capitol. They had finally found her.

Another bang came, and this time her door shook at the same time. Bang after bang, the soldiers on the other side tried to get inside her office. She should have made an escape route, but no one thought she would ever need it. The other rebels thought she would be safe. _She _thought she would be safe.

Finally, they managed to open the door and a group of soldiers ran in, pointing their lazer guns towards her. She held her hands above her head willingly. She didn't want any trouble.

She didn't want to become another war casualty, like her parents had. It was probably inevitable at this point, but if she had _any_ chance, she wanted to take it.

She didn't want to die.

* * *

><p><span><strong>District 8 <strong>

**Aden Rees,****28**

Everything was illegal these days.

Owning a gun was illegal. Trying to help a child in pain was illegal. Even breathing was illegal in some cases. As long as you were in favour of the rebels and you lived in the districts, everything was illegal. It didn't really faze anyone. Not even a good guy like Aden Rees. In fact, he actively went against the laws of Panem. After all, it was the right thing to do.

Aden lent against a large oak tree as he observed his surroundings. It was difficult to see anything in the dead of night. Only a few of streetlamps were kept on at this time and that was only to allow the Capitol soldiers enough light to see any potential rebels. If they saw him outside his house at this time, they wouldn't think twice about shooting him. Aden knew that, but, it was worth the risk.

Once he was sure the coast was clear, he pushed against the centre of the bark and a secret hiding spot opened. It had been something they used during the early days of the uprising to pass messages and weapons from rebel to rebel. Some rebels still used it if they needed to but its main purpose was to pass supplies from District to District. Someone would open it in the early hours of the morning and take the supplies which were stashed there. They passed on everything from weapons to clothes to food; everything the less fortunate districts could possibly need.

He stuffed his pack into the tree trunk and briefly glanced around once more. A young girl from the District had told him she would be coming with some supplies tonight. He had been rather conflicted over it; how could he possibly allow such a young girl to put herself in so much danger?

Still, he agreed to meet her if she hurried up. He couldn't afford to wait around for too long.

"Aden Rees?" Aden heard someone whisper from behind him.

He turned to see a pretty young girl with a pile of clothes in her arms. Only, it wasn't the same young girl he had met in the District. This young girl was the same young girl who had ran into him earlier. Blood still ran down the side of her face and down her legs.

"That would be me," he said, "and you are?"

"Angora," she replied.

"I thought I had told you to sort your wounds out." Aden apprehensively took the clothes of her. He wasn't sure he could completely trust her. He didn't have a clue who she was or why she was here.

The girl shrugged, "I'm fine. These supplies are from my sister. Now, can I ask why you allowed her to come out here at this time? She's only fifteen."

Aden nodded slowly as he stashed the extra supplies away. He allowed himself to trust her from that point; someone who was smart enough to recognise that danger, seemed like a trustworthy person to him. "Well, how old are you?" he asked.

He couldn't imagine her being much older than fifteen. She still had the same rounded facial features young girls had.

"Seventeen," she said as crossed her arms. Aden had to hold in a chuckle. She was acting as if seventeen was such an old age and she was at an age where she knew everything she had to know. Then again, that was true for most seventeen and eighteen year olds. They didn't understand how young they really were. They thought that just because they were able to look after themselves without killing themselves that they were as mature as fully grown adults, but, they were still naive teenagers at the end of the day.

"Maybe you should get home too. What were you doing earlier anyway?"

"_That's _none of your business," she quickly snapped. This caused Aden to shake his head in disbelief, but a smile still remained on his face as he did.

"Hey!" Someone shouted in an aggressive tone.

Aden snapped to attention to see a group of soldiers running towards the two of them. His eyes widened from shock.

"Run." He whispered to the young girl. He then began to follow his own advice and run in the opposite direction, pushing the girl along with him. He was ready to protect her if he needed to. After all, it was partly his fault she was out there in the first place.

They didn't get too far before another group of soldiers came down another side street; surrounding the two of them completely. Still, Aden looked around, desperate to find another way out but, there simply wasn't any. He noticed how the girl reached behind her to get out some sort of weapon; it looked like some kind of dart gun. Aden immediately grabbed her arm to stop her. It would only cause more commotion and not fighting back was their only chance of survival.

He knew these soldiers well. If the plan was to kill them, they would have done so already.

"Put your hands up," Aden told her. The girl looked up at her with a narrowed gaze as if to say '_are you crazy?'_ Aden just rolled his eyes. "Just do it," he said, with a more demanding tone.

Reluctantly, the girl raised her hands and Aden did the same. He knew he had somehow managed to get her into trouble and Aden didn't know what these soldiers had planned for them. All he knew was that he wouldn't let them hurt this young girl. None of this was her fault.

"Aden Rees, I am arresting you for your actions in helping the enemy. Can you both come with me?" one of the soldiers said.

"But, I'm not-"the girl began but the soldiers did not listen and they began to drag her away.

As he saw the fear in the girl's eyes, there was just one thing he could think of.

'_I will help her'_

* * *

><p><span><strong>The Capitol Jail<strong>

**Gail W. Samson, ****41**

He hated it there.

Then again, he hated it anywhere, but anywhere was better than the Capitol. There were people with odd coloured hair and odd coloured eyes, who somehow called themselves the leaders of this once great country; it was ridiculous and, quite frankly, it knocked him sick.

He lent against the brick wall, counting the seconds as they ticked by on the most absurd clock in the world. It was loudest clock he had ever come close to and, sometimes, it drove him insane but, other times, it kept him together. It was nice to know what time it was; it kept everything in perspective.

He had been behind these walls for far too long, ever since he was captured on the frontlines and detained. The Capitol had this 'bright idea' of keeping him alive in the hopes that his fellow rebels would trade his freedom for an end to this war. Gail had no idea who the Capitol thought he was but he certainly wasn't that special to rebellion. Sure, they would have probably missed him for a bit, but he wasn't anyone important. They could get by without him.

So, there he still was, alive, breathing, and still trapped in the Capitol, surrounded by complete fools. He wanted to get out and he wanted to get out _now._

"Mr Gail Samson?" Someone said as they unlocked the door to his cell.

This caught Gail's attention. No one ever unlocked his jail cell; they had only ever pushed a bowl of porridge through the sealed cat-flap so he didn't starve death. Face to face interaction was something that never happened. Still, he stood strong, his fists clenched by his sides as he waited for whatever was to come. Perhaps it was just a kid who was new to this and didn't know how things worked around there? If that was the case, Gail was sure he would pounce on whoever it was.

Finally, a Capitol soldier walked through the door; a hand gun in one hand and a pair of handcuffs in the other. He walked over to Gail and, without saying a word, he locked the handcuffs around Gail's wrists. Gail allowed him to because this was different. This was an improvement, perhaps even a step in the right direction; to his freedom.

"What's going on?" Gail asked, trying to sound as neutral as possible in his voice, as if he really did not care.

"You're getting out of here- sort of." From the way the man said 'sort of', Gail could tell that this soldier was really just a boy; a boy doing his job. He had known many of these kids during his time on the frontlines, and all of them infuriated him. The soldier placed the gun to the back of Gail's neck and nodded. "Now, walk."

Gail smirked, "You don't have the courage to pull that trigger, kid."

He heard a click of a trigger and a cool breath of air chilled his ear as the boy whispered, "do you wanna bet?"

Gail rolled his eyes and began to walk forward. '_Anything to get out of this godforsaken place'._

He was led up many staircases, up onto a hall which had walls painted in gold and floors with soft red carpets. It looked quite ridiculous, really, as if the President was trying too hard to prove himself to his 'guests'. The soldier continued to lead him into an open study, which was even larger than Gail's old house and his old house wasn't even on the small side for someone from the Districts. At that moment, he had an urge to walk straight up to the President, who was sat on his 'throne', and spit in his eye. It was less than what he deserved.

"Mr Samson! I haven't seen you in- what? Five years?" The President said, with that sly but still uninterested smirk on his face.

"Eight years, actually, and I don't know why; I've been living just a few floors below you." Gail shook the boy's gun off his neck and glanced at him. "Chill, I'm not about to run off. I wouldn't get anywhere anyway."

Then, Gail walked over to the desk and sat in a chair opposite the President. He almost jumped in surprise when he noticed the boy who was sat in the chair next to him; he hadn't seen him before then. The boy was young, probably still in his teenage years, but he looked like a brave young man. He was staring straight at the president with an unmoving and unfazed gaze. Something even Gail wouldn't have been able to do at his age.

"The Hunger Games," The President began.

Gail snapped to attention at that name. It sounded like something quite pathetic, like an eating contest of sorts, but, still, he listened. He assumed that whatever 'The Hunger Games' was, it would be able to get him out of this sh*thole.

"It's what us- The Capitol- are using to end this war. We are grabbing some rebels, about thirty of them, including some important people on the rebel's side. It is a fight to the death, one person will leave that arena and return home, never to be bothered by the Capitol again, but everyone else must die for that to happen."

That didn't sound too pathetic anymore. Honestly, it was a pretty good idea. He didn't agree with it by any stretch of the imagination, _but_ he believed it would work. '_If only the rebels had tought about that first.' _

"You two will be going in, it will be instead of your execution-" He looked at the boy next to him when he said that and Gail couldn't help but wonder what this boy could have possibly have done to be sentenced to death. "- and instead of your life imprisonment, Gail."

'_Well that sounds like a good deal." At_ least with this he had some chance of getting out. Even if he did die, he wouldn't be living in a small box for the rest of his life. Gail and the other boy both nodded their heads in agreement. Clearly the boy had similar thoughts as he did.

"That's not just it. These rebels need some help in killing each other. I suspect that at the beginning, they wouldn't want to. They're friends after all and on the same side, they would be reluctant to fight. That's why, as soon as you get into that arena, I want you two to kill straight away, cause havoc and well- make it a real bloodbath. I want both of you to kill whoever you can and, to make sure you do, if you don't kill at least two people each on the first day, I will ensure you never get out of that arena alive. Do you understand?"

Gail sighed and looked away. He had no problem in killing, but what if there was another general in there who he knew and respected? Could he have killed them so easily?

He nodded your head, "okay, you've got yourself a deal, right kid?"

The blonde haired kid looked over at Gail for the first time and nodded his head. "Yeah, deal."

* * *

><p>AN: So, there's the next update. So people understand, this SYOT will be shorter than the average one. I'm not speaking about the games, I'm talking about the capitol stuff. There will only be about 4 capitol chapters. So, we will get to the games quicker than usual. There isn't any chariots or 'training' or stuff. There are other stuff to replace them but nothing big. I've not decided how they will be set out, either one more pov for everyone this length or two shorter povs for each tribute which are shorter. I will see.

**Questions: **

**What are your thoughts on each of these tributes?  
>Who is your favourite out of these tributes? <strong>

So, till next time, yeah? BYE! X


	6. Anguish

**A/N****- **Update time! We're half way through these tedious introductory chapters. AND I've started writing Capitol chapters, so yay! Also, if I don't show every aspect of a tributes personality in their first pov...I'll get around to it, some characters have some very complex personalities- which I love! But it's difficult to show all of it in 1,000 words. Also, just five povs this chapter. Back to six next time, that's just because there are a weird amount of tributes so one chapter has to have five rather than six povs.

Also, random thing, I'm volunteering at a newspaper tomorrow. I can't even describe how nervous I am. I'm not good at new things.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Anguish: District 4 Raid<strong>

**District 4**

**Ilaria Raveri, 24**

Her little smile, her sweet and cheerful eyes; they all showed her pure innocence.

This little girl had no idea what was going on in the war outside. She just sat there, blowing bubbles out of her mouth as she tried to speak and pushing off the floor as she tried to crawl. Ilaria just wanted to know why someone so small had to live in such a cruel world; a world where she could have been killed at any moment. Ilaria picked up her five month old daughter, Merissa, and sat her on her knee as the baby bounced up and down.

The moment Ilaria had found out she was pregnant she made a promise to herself that she would do anything and everything in her power to keep her daughter from danger. She never believed it was possible to love someone as much as she loved her daughter. Then again, she never believed in anything she hadn't witnessed.

"Ilaria, I think we should go now," her friend, Glass, said.

Glass had been standing by the door, allowing the mother and baby to have some time alone.

'_If only he knew._' Illaria thought. Glass was actually Merissa's father. Only, Ilaria had never told him that and he still remained oblivious to the fact.

Ilaria nodded her head slowly before placing one final kiss on her child's forehead. She knew she couldn't stay there much longer. Otherwise, that 'safe place' would no longer be a 'safe place'. It was a hidden bunker which they had found as soon as Merissa was born. The child lived there with Ilaria's best friend, Mella, who was currently heavily pregnant.

Ilaria, on the other hand, lived with Glass on the outskirts of the rebel camp, both of them were soldiers on the frontline alongside Ilaria's younger brother, Luca.

She stood up with her baby in her arms and carefully handed her over to Mella. That was the safest place Merissa could have been at a time like that, hidden away at the edge of the district, with someone Ilaria could rely on looking after her.

As soon as Merissa was out of her mother's arms, the little girl's bottom lip began to wobble and her eyes became watery.

Ilaria smiled softly and smoothed down her daughter's blonde hair. "It's okay, I'll be back very soon," she whispered.

She wished she could have stayed longer with her, but out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Glass's tension in his eyes and in his stance. She sighed, turned and left. Ilaria had to stop to remind herself that this wasn't goodbye; they would see each other again very soon. Every time she left that shelter though, it felt like she was saying goodbye and in a District as dangerous as District 4, it was very possible that it could have been their final goodbye.

They climbed out of the shelter and onto the mainland. That was when the commotion began. Almost as soon as Glass helped Ilaria out of the door, the first bomb was dropped onto the village adjacent to them. Wood and glass were shattered out in their direction and both of them were thrown off their feet.

Ilaria felt anger fill her bones as she stood up and stared off at the burning houses, but unlike the people surrounding her. She did not move forward to help. She did not run into the open flames. She wasn't idiotic. There wouldn't be very many survivors in them flames and running into the village would only put her own life at risk. Ilaria was a survivor; that was all she had ever truly been. She did what she had to do to survive; you had to fight to survive. Dying was a thing for the weak and those who died today wouldn't have done if they had just been braver and lived amongst the rebels.

Glass was about to move forward, but before he did, Ilaria grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Don't," she said. Then, it hit her, why this had happened. Her eyes widened as she looked at him. It was obvious. The Capitol never missed their target and however malicious they were, they would have never bombed an innocent village without a reason. "They want to distract us."

Her suspicions proved themselves true when she saw a group of Capitol soldiers in the distance. Glass must have seen them too because before Illaria could react herself, he grabbed hold of her arm and began to run. He didn't have to hold on to her for long, she soon ran off her own accord, sprinting down to their house to gather their weapons so they could fight back.

She would fight to survive.

Glass forced their front door open and grabbed the two rifles for them both. They then ran straight back outside in a flash; ready to shoot any enemy in sight.

That was when a single burst of flame caught her eye. She calmly walked around the other side of her house to the side which faced the beach. Three men and one woman were down on the beach and two bodies lay at their feet like undesired specks of dirt. Slowly, she walked down the hill towards the beach; tree's hiding her from the four unknown figures. Out in the distance, there was a small ship which sported the Capitol flag.

That answered the question about how they got into the District undetected. The seas were more difficult to control than the skies were.

"Ilaria! Are you coming?" Glass called.

Ilaria waved him off as she looked out at the sea. "One moment," she called.

As her eyes focused, she noticed a rowing boat full off soldiers which was coming ashore down on the other end of the beach.

'_There's more.'_

* * *

><p><span><strong>Boe Redhul, 24<strong>

He hated it when they showed off like this.

Arrow was having his little romantic goodbye with Kortanna and it fuelled Boe with jealousy. He couldn't bring himself to watch them. To this day, he was certain that _child_ was his and not his brother's, just like how she should have been his and not his brother's. No matter what Boe did, Arrow was still able to get the best things in life. He was happy for his brother, he deserved the best, but sometimes, Boe wished he could get his own way now and again.

He groaned and shook his head. "Come on kids, no chick flick moments here. We have a _real _problem."

Arrow chuckled softly and nodded, "alright, alright."

He kissed his wife's forehead again- much to Boe's dismay. Kortanna then ran away to hide from the danger and the three boys began to run up the sandy hill towards the rebel camp. They could fight in the rebel camp with the safety of hundreds of other rebel soldiers backing them up.

When they were half way up the hill, a movement amongst the tree's caught Boe's attention and stopped him in his tracks. Someone was stood next to one of the trees, but he couldn't quite make out who it was from where he was stood.

"One moment," Boe called out to his brothers. He then slowly began to weave through the palm leaves which fell in front of his face, as he approached the girl. "Were you just spying on us?" He asked the girl.

He knew the girl's name all too well, her name was Ilaria, and she had fought on the front lines in District 4.

In such a large rebel camp, people only knew the names of the people they wanted to know of, and Boe had always been somewhat intrigued by Ilaria and her brother, Luca. They weren't people who made themselves known to the community, but they seemed to play a vital part.

Ilaria rolled her eyes and shook her eyes. "Please, I was just watching those soldiers," she said, as she pointed out to where a group of capitol soldiers were rowing into shore.

Boe nodded his head, pretending to appear interested although, in reality, he really wasn't. That was until he realised that they would be coming ashore near to where Kortanna was told to hide. "Shit," he whispered under his breath.

"What?" The girl asked.

Boe shook his head quickly as he tried to place his thoughts into coherent sentences. "Um, my girl-I mean, my brother's wife is hiding out there. We have to-"

"She'll be fine. I'm sure she's a strong woman. We don't all need men to protect us" she smirked.

Boe raised his brow as he looked down at her. She certainly intrigued him, whether that was for a good reason or a bad reason was a different question.

Ilaria then began to walk away from Boe and back up the hill towards where a strong looking man was stood waiting for her. Boe recognised the man from somewhere as well, but he couldn't quite recall his name.

"Well, bye then?" Boe said sarcastically as he started waving his arms about in an over-the-top farewell.

"You fancy her, don't you?" Archer whispered as he lent over his shoulder, almost causing Boe to jump out of his skin.

He stepped away from his brother and shivered a bit as his brother's creepy breath still lingered on his skin. He then began laughing loudly as he shook his head. "Are you kidding? The only person I fancy is-"

Boe stopped speaking there and looked over at his third triplet or 'Mr Poetic', as Boe liked to call him. "No one," he finally said. His voice had suddenly changed from his usual, humorous tone to a much more serious one.

His feelings for Kortanna weren't any joke. They were the most genuine thing he had ever felt.

...

**10 minutes later**

They were on his tail.

He had watched the men point guns at his brother's heads and take them away. There was nothing he could do to stop them. Sweat dripped off his forehead as the flames threatened to set his skin and clothes alight.

Ten minutes. It had taken a mere ten minutes to wipe the smile off Boe's face and to put District 4 in complete and utter chaos. He didn't know what the Capitol soldiers wanted of them, and he didn't know why they didn't just shoot them all, but still, he ran, weaving in and out of the rubble and remains of their District.

Suddenly, a hand reached out from a house and pulled him in. He wanted to shout out for help, but then he realised _who_ had grabbed him. Ilaria looked up at him with raised eyebrows and a judging gaze. He had been scared and, he would admit that. Who wouldn't have shown fear when the enemy was chasing them through a district in flames and their weapon was out of fuel? Boe threw his now useless flame thrower to ground and frowned at Ilaria for looking at him with his her judgemental gaze.

"You can thank me later," she said.

"No thank you," he whispered back, his voice full of sarcasm.

Boe looked around the small shack, half expecting to see that muscular guy from the beach around, but he was nowhere in sight.

"Where's that dude?" Boe asked.

Ilaria glanced at him, still with raised eyebrows. "Which one- oh, Glass? I don't know, he went to help some kid who was trapped in a house. I haven't seen him since. Where are your brothers?"

"Which ones?" Boe asked, mimicking her, with a smug grin on his face. His face then dropped when he truly remembered where they were. "Um- the Capitol got them, I don't know."

Boe looked away from Ilaria and her look of sympathy. He tried to shrug off his worries and her minimalistic sympathy.

After all, this wasn't the first time Archer had been taken by the Capitol.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chase Finch, 21<strong>

He could almost reach him.

The child's hand reached down to Chase through a hole in the ceiling. The house surrounding them was on fire and the fire was spreading further. Chase had tried to tell the child to jump through the gap and into his arms. He would have been able to catch him, but the child was too fearful. The boy's hands were shaking and his eyes were on high-alert, but Chase knew he had to save him. He couldn't just leave him up there.

He sighed as he gave up with that plan. He couldn't reach the boy from where he was stood. He would have to find another way to get him down. The staircase was an endless pit of flames, so that was out of the question, and the boy wouldn't listen to him or trust him enough with anything else he told him to do.

"Look, kid," Chase said, as he looked up through the gap.

The gap was nowhere near big enough to allow Chase to fit through, but this boy must have only been six years old at the most. He would fit through like a glove if he just had the courage to do so. Of course, Chase could not blame the boy. The fact that he wasn't screaming at the top of his voice, showed Chase that the child was, in fact, braver than the average boy his age.

"You need to come down through the gap. I can't get up to you, just slide down through this little hole so I can catch you and get you out, okay?" Chase wasn't exactly a 'natural' when it came to dealing with kids, and from the child's reaction, he realised that it was much more difficult than he first thought.

The boy looked at him with a face full of confusion before finally shaking his head firmly. At that moment, Chase felt the urge to scream at this kid. Didn't the boy realise that if he didn't, he would die? Then he realised, of course he didn't, he was just a little boy. He was naive when it came to anything to do with death. Kid's didn't think death was a real thing that could happen to them.

"Come on kid!" he said, with a much more sharp and stern tone.

That shook the boy up. He slowly nodded his head with uncertainty in his eyes and crawled over the hole and slowly lowered himself. His legs kicked around in the air, making Chase have to dodge them and the boy let out cries of fear and hesitation. Chase kept saying comforting words to the boy to encourage him and the moment he could fully reach him, he wrapped his arms around him and held him close. As soon as he was in his arms, the boy finally began to cry.

Chase walked with the boy outside and gave him to a medic who was on standby. That was when Chase noticed his sister, standing up on a wall for the whole world to see. Chase rolled his eyes as he walked over to her. _What was she doing? _

"What are you doing Willow? Get down from there immediately," he spat through his teeth.

Willow looked down at him and sighed before following her brother's orders and jumping down. "I was just-"

"I don't care," Chase interrupted. "Just go home, you're not wanted here and you will only get in the way."

Willow's face seemingly dropped as she folded her arms across his chest. Quilt pained his chest as he looked at her. He hated being this way with her, he really did. It wasn't who he really was inside, but it was the way everyone expected him to be, and so, he had to live up to those expectations. At the end of the day, Willow was just a naive sixteen year old girl who would only get herself into trouble. That much he did believe, but he wished he could have told her in a more amiable fashion. He wanted to speak to her in a way which didn't upset her and would make the two of them understand each other. He hated upsetting her.

Regardless, Chase turned around and began to walk in the opposite direction. He had other people to help and even more Capitol soldiers to fight. It was his duty to keep this district safe. He didn't want to fight anymore, he would have much rather have gone out and have fun and partied like a normal man of his age, but this was his duty for the time being. He could start partying again as soon as they had won this war.

"Chase!" her scream ripped through his eardrum and caused him to freeze on the spot.

'_Shit'_.

He turned around immediately to see Willow being dragged away by two Capitol soldiers. At that moment, pure anger towards his brother and father filled his bones. They had been the reason she was here in the first place. They were the ones who put her in this mess and got her into trouble, and they were the ones who treated her wrong in the past- more so than him. It was their entire fault.

Chase began to run immediately, he chased after the soldiers who had Willow, ready to fight to protect his sister. He wouldn't let any harm come to her and he wouldn't let them take her. If she had just done as she was told and stayed at home, she would have been safe. Frustrated tears threatened to leave his eyes. He ran up to them and successfully punched one of the soldiers in the face. Their nose crunched under his fist, but it didn't do much help.

The soldiers had come prepared. The needle burst through his skin and, in a moment, the world went black.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Ray Manta, 16<strong>

"News just in from down town!" Heigh shouted, as he rushed into the room holding a pile of papers.

Everyone in the room rushed to their feet and gathered around the large table in the middle. Ray had fallen asleep in his chair in the corner of the room. He had spent the last twelve hours in that room, waiting for any further news about what was going on in District 12. It was busy times for the FDA- The Free Districts Association-, things were happening all over Panem and, as much as the rebels didn't want to admit it, the Districts were slowly but surely losing the war.

Heigh's announcement had awoken Ray for a moment, but he soon turned over again and fell asleep. In the past three days, he must have only had a total of eight hours sleep. Being a teenager and being a part of such an important association could really tire a kid.

He felt someone shake him and with a groan, he woke up. As soon as he realised where he was and what was going on, he swore under his breath and stood up, quickly apologising to the woman who tried to wake him.

It had been almost three hours since the fist bomb went off. The situation in the District had been too complex to get any sort of idea what was going on, so they had to wait. Of course, there wasn't much the FDA could do about it, they weren't soldiers, but keeping in the loop was important to them. Ray walked over to the table and placed his hands on the edge.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Heigh, the leader of the group, just stared at the boy with an angry face before finally informing him. "It appears they haven't killed anyone, but they are kidnapping them. It's quite bizarre. A number of causalities have been reported from the bombings though. They will have a number for us shortly."

Ray nodded slowly before letting out a large yawn.

He felt someone tug on the back of his shirt and he tumbled back a little. If he had been more awake, he would have probably been able to hold his ground without falling at such a weak force.

"Sorry," Kaya said, as she bit her lip awkwardly.

Ray just chuckled and shook his head. "Hey, I'm still standing, aren't I?"

Kaya's face seemingly brightened and she nodded her head as a laugh worked its way out of her mouth. Her laugh made Ray smile. She was a girl who never stopped laughing; she would laugh at anything and everything. "Um, why don't you go home, Ray, you seem exhausted."

Kaya was one of Ray's few friends. She was a cheerful young girl who was smaller and a year younger than Ray. She didn't play a huge role in the association and, sometimes, it seemed like she was just _there_, but she was important to Ray.

Ray shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine, really," he said, as he shrugged his shoulders. "I can stay awake for another day or so." He smirked.

"No go." Kaya gently began to push Ray out of the front door, pushing against his arms and chest. The two of them began laughing. Neither was very strong, but Ray was quite a bit stronger than Kaya, so it was quite a sight watching her push him out, like a child trying to drag their adult somewhere.

When they saw the serious looks on the other's face and when he remembered how serious this situation truly was, he nodded his head, turned around and walked out willingly. Not wanting to cause anymore disruption for the rest of them.

He walked down the large hill, grabbing hold of the palm trees to stop himself from falling down. The sun was slowly setting, causing the sea to glimmer in a golden haze. It was a beautiful sight, and Ray could imagine that it would have been beautiful to swim in to. If he wasn't so exhausted, he would have been running over to the beach and diving into that water in an instance, swimming under the water with the fishes and just relaxing. He would have loved to do that at that moment.

He remembered challenging one of his bullies to a diving contest. They dove deep into that blue, luxurious water. Ray won, of course, and that bully hadn't bothered him since. Ray chuckled quietly to himself from the memory. _That _was a good day.

A slight rustle in the tree's caught his attention and Ray immediately stopped in his tracks. He couldn't imagine anyone else being out at this time, especially after what had been happening that day. He felt another yawn work its way up his chest. He was far too tired for this.

"Hello?" he mumbled in a yawn.

Suddenly, he was jolted awake by arms grabbing him around his chest. He let out a shout in shock when he felt the head of a gun press against his forehead. His hands began to shake and he tried to get out of the lock he was in.

"Keep still and start walking," a man's voice whispered in his ear.

Ray guessed he didn't have much choice and he did as he was told.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Alec Benen, 33<strong>

'_Why were they still here?'_

Alec had been watching the Capitol soldiers as they marched around the district, taking random people and shooting others. Alec didn't understand their system. It was almost as if they were searching for certain people, or certain personas. They couldn't have possibly known who all of these people were. They had taken a small teenage girl, what could they possibly want with her? It didn't make any sense.

"They're coming," another solider said as the group of them got into position.

Alec moved over onto his stomach and grabbed his rifle. They had been waiting since the first bomb went off. They were hiding in the sandy hills of District 4, waiting for the soldiers to pass them by so they could hit them by surprise. Of course, some of their soldiers were down on the ground fighting, but up there they had the advantage. The Capitol couldn't reach them, but they could have easily reached the Capitol soldiers.

Alec glared at the Capitol soldiers. He hated them. They were all murderers who deserved to be killed. He had watched them murder the innocent and he had watched them do inhumane things to people who did not deserve it. One of those things was the bomb on the village today. _Children_ lived in that village, small and innocent _children._ Alec was the first to pull his trigger and the bullet flew through the air and bounced off one of the soldier's armour. The rebel soldiers continued to fire at them, hoping to hit them where their flesh was not covered in a solid material. The Capitol soldiers fought back and soon bullets were flying in both directions. A few capitol soldiers fell but many rebel soldiers fell.

"Pull back!" his general called. Then, a bullet hit his general in the chest and he fell to his knees.

The two remaining rebel soldiers ducked behind their 'fort' and waited. Around them, was their colleagues bloody bodies.

"Cr*p," the other rebel said.

Alec looked over at him and slowly nodded his head. His heart pumped hard against his chest as he tried to get his breath back. _This_ was why the rebels were losing. They just weren't developed enough as far as armour and weaponry was concerned. They had the advantage in numbers and the advantage in motivation, but they just weren't as prepared for a war as the Capitol was.

Alec threw his weapon hard against a rock in a moment of anger. He didn't want the rebels to lose the war. He wanted them to win more than anything in the world. He had four sisters and one brother and Alec was the second oldest out of them all. He felt like it was his duty to keep them safe, even if they were all adults now. He didn't want wake up again feeling oppressed by the powers of the Capitol. He wanted to be a free man once more.

The other rebel, Jac, grabbed Alec's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. Alec didn't know Jac too well, they had just been thrown together today, but he was grateful to have him there for now. Alec gently smiled weakly.

"We-we should go back to camp now. They should have gone," Jac said.

Alec nodded in agreement, never being a man of many words. He pulled himself up, leaving his now broken rifle behind and he began to follow Jac down the hill and towards the camp.

As expected, the Capitol soldiers had left. Alec suspected that they moved onto a different part of the camp in order to kidnap more people. A part of him really wanted to know what they were up to, but at the same time he'd rather not.

"Boys," he heard someone say.

At that moment, he realised he would find out what they were up to; regardless of whether he wanted to or not.

The two rebel soldiers turned around to see a middle-aged man approach them. He was a large and muscular man and Alec could tell by the medal he wore on his chest, that he was an important soldier for the Capitol. Jac pointed his gun at him immediately but the man just smirked and shook his head.

"No point in doing that," he said. Then, two men came out of nowhere and grabbed the two rebel soldiers. "You two are coming with us.

Jac chuckled half-heartedly and shook his head. "Fat chance," he spat. He then did something which even Alec could see as a stupid move; he shoved his gun into the face of the soldier who held him and he began to run. The Capitol man who stood before him, the important one, reacted straight away and shot Jac. The boy fell to his knees immediately.

Alec winced and looked away, swallowing down the lump which rose in his throat. He had only just met Jac, but he could tell that he was a good man who meant well. He just wanted to survive, but that want wasn't good enough for the Capitol.

"You're not going to the same, are you?" the man asked him.

Alec slowly shook his head as he looked down at the sandy ground. Without any further word, the soldier's shoved Alec away and began to march him through the District. The Capitol general walked in front of them, holding his gun. "How many have you got from here?" the General asked the soldiers.

The solider to Alec's left answered him, "about nine or ten. They're all in the truck, waiting for you."

The General nodded his head, "okay then. This guy can be our last from here" The man then turned around and looked straight at Alec, a hint of emotion flashing through his eyes. "You've got a tough few days ahead. I'm going to apologize in advance. Soon, you're going to wish we had killed you along with your men."

* * *

><p><strong>AN- **So that's that for that chapter! These chapters are more interesting to write than your usual 'reapings' as such, but they are still quite boring and I bet the capitol chapters will be boring to write too. Honestly, I want to get to the game already! But these chapters are vital, if not for story-line set up, then for the tributes which will be leaving us early. They need characterisation too, so yeah. Your reviews are definitely pushing me through it though. So THANK YOU! Just two more intro chapters left! :D Next chapter we're in the Capitol!

* * *

><p><strong>Questions:<strong>

What are your thoughts on each of these tributes?

Who was your favourite this chapter?

As last time, if you could point out any grammatical mistakes I'm making, that would be fantabulous!

* * *

><p>Oh, and I'm not saying much at the moment and I'm not making any promises, but I'm currently craving writing a normal SYOT...so...keep that in mind...it will come EVENTUALLY, but it might be sooner than I first thought...I'm gonna get through the boring parts of this one first though and at least get the games started :P But...after the bloodbath, you could expect a new thing from me? Maybe? Possibly? We'll see.<p> 


	7. Rubble

**A/N: **Okay, first of all Hi x3, It feels like it has been forever since I last updated; mainly because it has been forever (like...a month?) -oops, sorryyy. My bad...I have my reasons but I'm not gonna make excsues for myself.

Also, there's only four POVS in this because 6 povs right now is a bit too much at the moment with my life. I want to say that, especially in this chapter, you may see that I have changed a few facts about some of the characters. I changed a few facts, developed some of the personalities etc, just to make it work, you know? Anyway, I'm rambling, please enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Rubble: District 12 Raid<span>_**

**Ariadne, 32 **

It was almost as if everything was back to normal.

Ariadne glanced outside her window to see her son and daughter talking, like any normal brother and sister would talk; with disgust in their voices and in their actions, but also pure admiration in their eyes. Although they didn't always act like it, her children did care for each other.

Her children weren't really children anymore and Ariadne knew that their lives would flash before her eyes and, like any other mother, she was not ready for that. Before she knew it, they would be moving out of her house and they will be having their own children. Of course, she had a good ten years, or so, left, but they were already half way there.

Her son, Ren, was ten, and her Daughter, Evie, was thirteen; she was a_ teenager_. They weren't little babies anymore.

It hurt Ariadne, more than anything else, to think their father was not going to be there to see them grow up into the amazing adults, she was sure, they would become.

At least their mother would be there, by their sides, to support them through everything. Ariadne would never leave their sides; she had promised them that on countless occasions.

Her husband died during the war. He had been a dedicated rebel who had given his life for what he believed in. Unfortunately, Ariadne strongly believed his death was in vain. They were losing the war; anyone who had a brain could see that, though most people tried to ignore that fact. Ariadne, herself, tried to ignore it, but it was rather difficult to ignore. The evidence was around every corner.

When the war first broke out, she had thought the whole concept of it was ridiculous. Why bring this danger to their lives when their life wasn't all that bad to begin with? Life was worse now than it ever had been before the war and she knew, in the back of her mind, it could only get worse after the war. More people would die. More people would be treated unfairly. The Districts of Panem were setting themselves up for failure.

She went along with it regardless of what she thought. What other choice did she have? She had to stick with her husband and her family, and if that made her a target, so be it. She could protect herself and her children whilst their father was at war, and she could protect them now, when he was no longer there.

Ariadne watched as her daughter ran from the garden, towards the back door, with a big old pout on her face. Ariadne chuckled softly to herself. '_What has happened now?'_

She walked over to the door to meet her daughter. Evie's face was as red as a tomato and her eyebrows were furrowed together in anger. This look on a thirteen year olds face was quite amusing in itself and Ariadne had to hold back the giggle which grew to the surface.

"What's up with you?" Ariadne asked.

"He told me he found a coin, but when he put it in my hand- it was a big hairy spider!" Evie explained. Her voice was rushing through the words, as if they had to leave her mouth in a hurry in order to express her annoyance correctly.

Ariadne couldn't hold back the smirk this time; it appeared on her face in an instance, causing her daughter's face to become even more flustered.

Ariadne gently placed a comforting hand on her daughter's shoulder, but her daughter just shrugged it off. She never did understand her mother's loving gestures.

Not being one of many words, Ariadne often used actions to express herself, much to Evie's annoyance. Her daughter never really understood her mother's emotive hand gestures and actions. Her son, on the other hand, understood her mother completely.

"No, he tricked me! And he knows how I don't like spiders- I mean no girl does! He's stupid!"

"He's just pranking you; that's how he is," Ariadne said softly. Her hand gently soothed her daughter's hair, which had been swept into a mess by the outside wind. Again, Evie pushed her mother's hand away.

"You don't understand!" she shouted, before storming off, past her mother, and marching up into her room, slamming her door behind her.

Her son was a little prankster and the cheekiness on his face when he tricked someone was adorable. That face showed when he walked up into the house, biting his lip. He giggled a little as he reached the door.

"Don't be mad?" he whispered.

Ariadne giggled slightly as she shook her head.

Suddenly, a loud noise filled the District and shook her house. She heard her daughter scream from upstairs and she quickly ran up to her, her son following quickly behind her, both dazed from the sudden chaos which had erupted.

Evie was sat by the window, her eyes were wide and they were quickly filling up with tears. When she saw what her daughter was starring at, Ariadne's own eyes grew wide with shock. The District was on fire, it had been a bomb, an explosion, something like that. People were running out of smoke-ridden house and they were screaming in fear .

Ren came to his mother's side and wrapped his arms around her waist as he hid his face into her side, his little hands shook with fear. Ariadne put her arm around her son and used her other hand to carefully calm her daughter's hair.

She didn't know what to do.

There wasn't anywhere they could go. There wasn't anywhere much safer than the house they lived in.

"Mum?" Evie's soft voice said, as she looked up at her mother.

Ariadne nodded her head. She forced herself to stay strong, for her children, but it was more difficult than she thought it would be. She needed her husband. He would have known what to do. He would have been the strong one. It had been a long time since she admitted to herself that she needed him.

She had always _wanted_ him by her side, but she had been okay.

Now, she needed her husband.

"We'll be okay."

* * *

><p><strong>Dinis Spiro, 35 <strong>

It was almost as if they weren't in the midst of a war.

It was almost as if everything was normal again and they were just two young men relaxing at work. This was how life should have been; nobody should have to live in the fear they lived in.

The two men laughed and joked, all whilst drinking a large cup of coffee. They were great friends, when it came down to it, and Dinis was grateful to have the chance to work with such an interesting man.

Dinis believed he wouldn't have been able to do it himself, dealing with the death which surrounded him on a daily basis, without Nicklaus there by his side, would be too much for anyone.

This morning, a man, about the same age as Dinis, had died quite unexpectedly. It had caught Dinis by surprise and it had upset him, but Nicklaus was always there to have a much needed coffee break with him to help brighten his spirits.

"How's the boy?" Dinis asked, as he took another sip of his drink.

Nicklaus nodded his head. "He seems to be okay, a bit confused and delusional, but fine. I think the morphling shots are messing with his head a bit. He thought he recognised me- from the Capitol of all places." Nicklaus began to laugh as he shook his head.

Dinis laughed a long. The thought of anyone from the Capitol playing such a big, genuine, and selfless part in this war was one thing, but to do it on the rebel's side was beyond impossible to believe. It was, quite frankly, ridiculous, but that was what morphling could do to a child. It could confuse them and make them disorientated but, sometimes, morphling was a vitality to help with someone's pain.

_At least the boy is well, _he thought. He was a good lad.

"Hey, Miriam," Dinis called, as he waved the student nurse over. The woman rushed over in an instant, never wanting to disappoint such an _'amiable and compassionate man'_. It was really quite funny, what his co-workers thought of him. Only Nicklaus knew the real Dinis. "Do us a favour, will you? I tripped on the stairs earlier- bruised my leg. Could you get me a coffee?"

_Lies, _of course, Dinis just really couldn't be bothered moving. The man was lazy at the best of times. It was as if the moment he could sit down and get away from his job, there was no way of getting him to do anything else. Still, Dinis played the part, putting on a pained expression and acting as if he really hated asking her to do him this favour. All of which was rubbish.

"Oh, um, of course Doctor," the girl said, before scurrying off to the drink machine.

Dinis turned to see Nicklaus with raised eyebrows and a smug smirk on his face. "You fell on the stairs, did you?"

"Well of course I did, bruised the side of my leg," he said, his voice covered in pure sarcasm. Nicklaus wasn't an easy person to manipulate, so Dinis had almost given up on trying. Nicklaus had a way of seeing right through people and seeing the truth. It made Dinis think that Nicklaus could have possibly been a good con-artist if he put his mind to it, but, no, Nicklaus seemed like too much of a good man to do any of that stuff. Dinis was a good man himself, but the satisfaction which came when people realised they had been cheated was too good to pass off. Plus, he needed the money; he had a wife and a family. A doctor's wage, in times of need, could only get you so far.

All of a sudden, there was a _blast- an explosion- a bomb?_

Dinis didn't really know what it was. It was all a blur- _a dream_- one of which didn't make any sense.

One moment, laughter filled the room. The next, everyone was screaming and rushing around in a mad state of panic. On the other side of the room, a wall had crumbled in and the ceiling had collapsed, causing a wave of ash and smoke to fill the room.

Nicklaus' voice was the voice to snap Dinis out of his moment of confusion."Miriam," he said.

Dinis quickly shook his head and looked up at his friend who was standing up from his seat, a brave-_ professional_- look on his face. Dinis followed his line of vision until he saw exactly what Nicklaus was seeing. Miriam, the young and beautiful people-pleaser, was lying under the rubble.

The two men leaped into action and ran towards the girl, pushing everyone who was surrounding her out of their way. Some kind of pipe was crashed down on her chest and from the angle of her neck, it was clear she was gone. Dinis looked away in frustration. If he hadn't have been lazy, that would have been _him._ He knew he should have felt guilty about that, but instead, he felt relieved. He had two young children and another on the way; he couldn't afford to die.

Still, this girl did not deserve her fate.

"She's gone," Nicklaus said, as he stood back up from checking her pulse. Dinis knew he was just doing it as a formality, no one needed to tell him she was dead. It was as clear as day.

Dinis glanced out of the window for the first time and panic filled his stomach. The entire surrounding area was in flames and other parts were completely destroyed.

"My family," he whispered. "I-I have to check on them."

Nicklaus nodded as he gripped his friend's shoulder in support. "I'll go with you."

Without any further words, the two men left together. Rushing through the flames that surrounded them, towards his home, all he could do was think about his family. They were his everything; the reason he did everything he did.

Today, Dinis wouldn't know whether they were okay, maybe he would never know how they were.

When they were just a couple of blocks away from Dinis' house, Capitol soldiers closed in on them, guns at the ready.

The first thing which left the soldiers' mouths really confused Dinis.

It made him think that the boy from the hospital wasn't confused by the morphling and, it made him second guess his own friend.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is boys..._General Nesh."_

* * *

><p><strong>Adriana Latro, 30 <strong>

They kept coming in.

One after another, people were being rushed in through the door. Some with minor injuries, other's with much more severe and life threatening injuries. Adriana couldn't cope with them all alone, especially after Dinis and Nicklaus had disappeared off the face of the earth and Miriam was..._not available_.

Sure, there were some other doctors scurrying around and some volunteers off the streets lending her a hand, but she was still very much alone. There weren't enough of them on a regular basis, and there certainly weren't enough of them now.

Adriana was rushing around from person to person, trying to help those who were in the most critical conditions first and trying her very best to not think about the growing number of dead bodies which surrounded her.

_Children_ had made it to the front door with their injuries, but collapsed before they could have helped them. Their bodies still lay on the floor where they fell, no one being free enough to move them.

"Janon! Grab more bandages, and hurry!" Adriana shouted to one of the younger medics. The boy almost jumped out of his skin as he turned around, before running off, down the corridor.

This was too much stress for the woman. '_Where the HELL are Dinis and Nicklaus?' _she thought. She knew Dinis had his family to think about, he probably left to check on them, but they had been gone for the best part of an hour. He didn't live _that_ far away.

Tears gathered in her eyes and she had to look away from her dying patients. She couldn't save the all, she knew that, but she wanted to do so desperately and it pained her to the very core- _it angered her_.

A part of her, deep inside, wished that the rebels had retreated like they pretended to. It would have made things so much easier. It would have saved so many innocent lives and it would have made life not as stressful.

She was just a medic_- just a medic,_ nothing spectacular; nothing like a soldier or a strategist. She was just there to save lives, but even that put a whole lot of pressure on her shoulders.

"Are you okay hunny?" someone asked her.

Without even looking up at the person who was speaking, Adriana nodded her head and said, "of course I am, why wouldn't I be?"

Usually, Adriana could deal with being in charge. She had done it before when Nicklaus and Dinis weren't there, but never in such a dire situation.

There was so many information and stats that she had to take in and it caused her mind to rush in a whirlwind of thoughts. She couldn't admit that she couldn't do it. She would be okay, the moment less people were in a critical condition and the moment her colleagues were back, she would be back to her normal, clear-headed self.

"You just seem a bit stressed, why don't you go sit down?" the woman said.

This time, Adriana looked up. She did not recognise the woman. She was just some random woman who was lending a hand in the emergency. She had short blonde hair and seam-grey eyes.

"I'm fine!" the medic almost shouted. She immediately regretted the shot of anger in her voice. Maybe a moment of peace was what she needed. Adriana slowly began to nod her head before taking a step back.

"Yeah, um- could you just finish wrapping wounds in bandages and what not?" she said quietly, as she began to walk away.

The moment the blonde woman nodded her head in agreement, Adriana span around and scurried down the hall, which was now covered in rubble, blood from numerous of patients, and mess.

If you were to go back a couple of years, this place would have been immediately written off on hygiene regulations, in the state it was currently in. No one cared about such measly things like that anymore, in such desperate conditions.

To give herself the break and the company that she needed, she decided to pay a visit to the young capitol boy on ward five. She called him her little friend, and it seemed that almost all of colleagues called him their little friend as well- especially Dinis.

"Hi kid...uh-" the moment Adriana saw what was going on in the room, her heart stopped and her eyes widened in shock. A man wearing a capitol uniform was stuffing the boy's medicine in a back pack.

"Adriana!" the boy shouted with eyes filled of fear and desperation, but before either she or the young boy could do anything; the Capitol soldier grabbed his gun and pointed it towards the medic.

"Dad, please, don't!" The boy was almost crying now and, suddenly, it all seemed to make sense. He was there to save the boy, or, at least, that was what it seemed to be. "She's a nice woman."

"You have really deluded my boy, haven't you?" the solider spat, but Adriana did not answer him. Instead, she tried to reason with the man.

"Just, take everything you need, take him. I won't try to stop you."

The soldier laughed for a moment, leaving the woman with a confused look on her face. _What was so funny?_

"Nah, he's staying here. Why would I take the kid away from a place he clearly likes more than home? He's a rebel now. You, however, you're coming with me."

"Why?"

"You're going to die- most likely, but not at my hand," he whispered. His voice sounded so evil that a shiver ran down her spine.

Whatever this was, she knew it would be worse than anything she had seen before.

* * *

><p><strong>Giselle Lacer, 24 <strong>

Everyone was scared.

Everyone was confused.

Some weren't even conscious and Giselle wasn't sure whether or not some of these kids were even alive.

She squirmed where she was sat, as she tried to wiggle out of the ropes which tied her wrists together. She wanted to take this tape off her mouth. She wanted to work out what was going on and she wanted to escape; if that was at all possible.

She had to believe escaping was possible, it had to be, nothing was ever impossible.

She wasn't the type of girl to just give up on hope.

After a minute of her struggling a young boy, who had to have been no older than sixteen, crawled over to her. He didn't have his hands tied, perhaps he had been able to free himself, or perhaps, for whatever reason, the soldiers just didn't feel the need to tie him up.

Without him saying a word, he whipped Giselle's tape off her mouth, she hissed from the sudden, piercing, pain which filled her lips.

"Thanks," Giselle muttered, as she rubbed her stinging mouth to help stop the pain.

The boy shrugged his shoulders before sitting back again, crossing his legs.

There were many people around her in the back of this van.

She recognised most of them, but there weren't anyone that she knew personally. She recognised three of them from District Twelve's hospital; she has had to take people there before when they have been injured.

Then, there were a few soldiers that she recognised, such as the unconscious man near the back; the one in his thirties with dark hair.

Then, there was Ariadne, she was the only one in the van, she knew by name. Ariadne had done similar things that Giselle did; secretive things such as passing messages and hiding secrets. She had only ever known Ariadne in passing. They had never held a proper conversation.

The only person she hadn't seen before was the boy sat in front of her, the one who had taken the tape off her mouth.

Everyone else she at least recognised from around the rebel camp.

"What's your name?" Giselle asked him.

The boy's eyes darted up at her; suddenly he looked like a frightened dear and guilt filled the pit of his stomach. He shook his head slowly as began to back away from Giselle.

She tilted her head as she watched him. What had she said to frighten him so? "What?"

Giselle saw the confusion which rattled through the boy's face, almost as if he didn't understand what she was asking him. It wasn't a difficult question, was it?

Finally, he nodded his head.

"V-Venator," he muttered as he looked down at the floor, flicking at a piece of dirt.

"I'm Giselle," she said.

Still, the boy did not look up at Giselle. His eyes were set on the floor, his arms tense and his shoulders shaking with fear.

A part of her wanted to go over to him and wrap a protective arm around him, but she knew that was not a very wise idea. She didn't know anything about this boy. He could have been a criminal, a murderer, anything, and Giselle did not want to risk it.

In a sudden change of mind, Giselle ignored her own spirally thoughts.

_At the end of the day, he's just a scared kid,_ Giselle thought.

She reached her hand towards him, causing him to make a sudden jump backwards, towards the back of the van and away from her, as a growl escaped his lips.

It frightened Giselle. For a moment, he seemed to be like an animal, rather than like a human being.

It was quite scary.

The van bounced over a bump in road, causing everyone in the back to jump up and down and fall over. A yelp came out of Venator's mouth and he began to shake again, but Giselle made no action to comfort him. She wasn't stupid, she was far from it.

This boy was _something different_, he might have even been dangerous, and any one of these rebels who sat in the back could have been dangerous. She did not know and she knew that, until she found out more about these people and why they were there, she would have to be very careful.

She guessed that they were taking them to the capitol, but what for? She did not know. The only reason she could think of was for their execution, but if that had been the case, why didn't they just kill them on the spot and get it over with?

But of course, this was President Lentz they were dealing with; he didn't 'get it over with'.

Given the chance, he would rip every rebel limb from limb until there was nothing left of them, and there were a whole lot of rebels in this van.

That man had something planed, and Giselle knew he would not go lightly on them.

She had to prepare for torture.

* * *

><p><strong>AN- **So, how about that twenty-something hours of no fanfiction? Personally, it practically drived me insane...I need my daily dose of Fanfiction :P

This would have actually been up yesterday if it wasn't for that inconvenience!

Anywho, you know I don't expect reviews or anything like that, but I've noticed some people are falling behind, or just stopped reviewing, and well, if you could review, that would be awesome. It gives me the extra push to get an update out. I have just two more of these- slighter shorter- intro chapters, and they are going to be the journey, arriving at the capitol and stuff like that. So it'd not gonna be as repetitive! YAYYY.

So, I'm grateful for any push I can get. They're difficult :P I'm, of course, grateful for any reviews I have already recieved :3

**Um...Questions?**

**What did you think of each of these tributes?**

**Favourite?**

**What did you do during the Fanfiction down time?**

**Personally I played sims and got one guy alien pregnant and I spent ages trying to make one a werewolf and then out of nowhere, he got bit and turned into a werewolf...yup...brothers by the way, those two sims. I have strange times on sims. **

Do I have any announcements? Um...still working on all the things, you can look on my bio and all the things I'm working on but not published are up there. Sooo, yeah...

Till next time? Bye!


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